The Darkest Night
by sweetpants
Summary: House tightly shut his eyes. This had to be a Vicodin-induced hallucination. It seemed incomprehensible that someone could have reduced Cuddy to this. huddy
1. one

**The Darkest Night**

_Your windows, opened wide  
Your innocence takes flight_

_To a world where madness craves  
To a world where hopes enslaved  
Oh, Ill tremble for my love always_

"It's one o'clock in the morning! Shouldn't you be in beddy-byes?"

Losing isn't something that Dr. Gregory House has become accustomed to in his forty-six years of life. Therefore, his current position of getting his ass kicked in an online video game by an eleven-year-old was quite disturbing.

"What's the matter old man? Can't take the heat?"

His competitor was ruthless. This on-going duel on Xbox 360 had lasted for hours now, and he had yet to defeat this kid. He considered nothing worse than being defeated by a trash-talking geek who had way too much time on his 'go forth and prosper' hands.

"Take the heat? Come back to me after you've reached third base, kid. You don't know heat til you've– "

His corrupting of a child was halted by one of the most annoying sounds on earth; the ring of a telephone.

" – Hold that thought!"

If the rugged, old, Rolling Stones t-shirt he was wearing wasn't enough to show off what an educated doctor he is, then the headset that was knotted and tangled around his adult body clearly said it all. Clearing his throat, he limped over to phone, ready to be as rude as possible to whomever dared disturb him.

"Someone better be dying."

It wasn't exactly his most creative greeting, and he had used it before, but he figured it would send across the right message.

"House...?" A timid, barely audible voice came through the other line. He didn't recognize it.

"Hello? Look, if this is 'GoDaddy' again, I already sent out the payment. God, you people are impatient."

"House, it's Cuddy." It was a whispered sentenced. He had never heard her speak so softly. A quick-witted comment asking if she had been looking for a late-night booty call trailed off his lips as the sound of sobbing filled his ear. She was crying. Something was wrong.

"What's the matter?" It took a great inner strength and years of practice to overcome his sudden urge to let the concern in his voice be heard.

"P..p..please, help me. I.. I.. – "

"Cuddy! Where are you?" His reputation as a bastard be damned. There was something very disturbing in the way she had requested his help. She was hurt; badly hurt.

"At the hospital. I'm... in the.. par...king gar.r..r..age, in the baa..ck. Hurry. He.. He.. He.."

As her words faded into sobs, House nearly had a heart attack.

"Cuddy, don't move! I'll be there in five minutes, Okay?" His mind was racing at the thought of all the possible situations that could have occurred. Someone had hurt her.

"Okay." He waited for only a second longer to hear a final sob and hiccup from the other line before the connection was lost.

Suddenly, the ache deep within his right thigh had disappeared. House charged through his apartment with the grace of a bull in a china shop. He stumbled, trying to find his shoes and reaching for his jacket before leaving his apartment. Right now his own safety wasn't important as all. Locating his helmet was no priority while knowing that Cuddy was alone and scared after.. Oh god. He did not even want to think of what had happened.

The orange and black blur that was his motorcycle swept through the city streets of Princeton. House somehow managed to avoid being pulled over or killed by his dangerous riding techniques. What should have been a fifteen minute drive to the hospital was completed in just seconds over five.

The roaring engine announced his arrival at the underground parking garage of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. He sped through the empty isles of spaces until he spotted a black Mercedes parked in the corner of the garage. House barely took the time to turn off his motorcycle before throwing it to the ground.

Then he saw her.

There she was, curled into a ball and shaking uncontrollably on the ground next to the car. Her knees were clutched into her chest as she rocked herself back and forth. This is what was left of Lisa Cuddy.

She had obviously heard his presence, but chose not to acknowledge it. House was hesitant as he approached her. He cautiously stepped toward her, trying his best not to startle the Dean of Medicine. The sharp pains in his leg seemed non-existent as he dropped to his knees beside her.

Cuddy lifted her face from where it had been buried under her arms. He had never before seen her look so innocent or vulnerable. In that one moment, House's heart of glass shattered into a thousand pieces. He knew.

She was covered in blood. It streamed from the gash just above her left eyebrow all the way down her cheek. The start of black and blue bruises could be seen everywhere on her body. Aggressive hand prints scarred her arms, and her upper lip had been split. There was not but one inch of her he could see that hadn't been wounded in some way.

House tightly shut his eyes. This had to be a Vicodin-induced hallucination. It seemed incomprehensible that someone could have reduced Cuddy to this. He was going to open his eyes, and find himself sprawled out on the floor of his apartment. This was all just some sick nightmare that was surely about to reach its ending point.

He reached no such luck after hesitantly opening his eyes again. Cuddy's once lively, playful, blue-green eyes that would taunt and tease him endlessly were now glossy, lost, and terrified. She was still shivering, but he had noticed that her sobbing had lessened since his arrival. House gently reached out his hand to touch her, to comfort her. He wanted nothing but to somehow heal all of her pain.

It was a failed attempt. His hand had just grazed the tip of her shoulder when she flinched and scampered away from him, distancing herself from within his reach. He would never forget this look of pure fright in her eyes as she looked up at him. She was in shock, and still nowhere near ready to let her guard down after what had just happened to her.

Tears filled her eyes once more as she returned to the fetal position that he had found her in. House silently vowed to kill the person who had done this to her. He would never allow anything like this to happen ever again. She was all he had left, what with a widowed Wilson who was yet to speak to him since the accident. Cuddy was the only good thing in his life, and someone had almost succeeded in taking her away from him.

One word left his lips as a desperate plea to a God whom he did not believe in. It was whispered into the empty garage on the darkest night of their lives.

"Lisa."

* * *

_Song: "Tremble For My Beloved" by Collective Soul_


	2. two

Cuddy didn't respond to her name. She remained where she was while a deafening silence surrounded them. House didn't know how long the two of them stayed like this; it felt like hours. Each second ticked by like a bomb counting down its detonation. She had yet to remove herself from the protective ball in which she had curled herself into. Her shaking had stopped, but she refused to make eye contact with him.

"Cuddy. Please, look at me."

House never thought he'd see the day when he'd be begging Cuddy for anything. Of course his imagination had played out a few scenarios, but they were nothing like this. He pleaded with her a few more times before she finally raised her head to look at him.

Lost and lifeless eyes stared back at him. She had never before looked so sad. All he could think about was how this could have happened. How could someone have done this to her? Some monster had crushed her. The woman he knew was gone. Lying in front of him was just a broken body, too fragile to touch. Cuddy would never be the same again.

"It's ok. I'm here now, Cuddy. I'm here."

This seemed to be de ja vu. It was only months before when Cuddy spoke these same words to him. She had remained faithfully at his side after the Deep Brain Stimulation, and continued to take care of him until he was finally able to leave the hospital. However, even after his discharge, she often made trips to his apartment in order to check on him. Now, the tables had turned.

A small whimper was made barely audible by her closed lips. House just managed to catch it. She kept her eyes staring straight at him as he shuffled closer to her.

"What do you need? Just tell me what you want, Cuddy."

He was no good at this. She needed someone to rescue her. Wilson. Wilson was the kind of man for this. Wilson could save the damsel in distress, and everything would be okay.

Except this wasn't a happy-ending fairytale story. This was the real world. The world where drug addict's kill their best friend's girlfriend. The world where beautiful, loyal women, who deserve better, fall in love with manipulative bastards. The world where Deans of Medicine are raped and beaten .

"Please, Cuddy."

It was yet another plead for her trust. He figured there were still many more to come before a small, timid hand reached out to him. He took a moment to observe her actions. Her eyes didn't look away from his as her body leaned towards him. She gently grabbed the sleeve of his leather jacket, and tugged twice. It was all he needed.

House scooped her up into his arms. Her face was buried into his chest, and her hands rested against his stomach. His hold on her was protective, yet gentle. She was so fragile. Both her physical and emotional state was so delicate, he was afraid of scaring her. Blood and tears leaked onto his jacket and t-shirt. She cried in his arms.

"Shh shh it's ok. I'm here now. No one's gonna hurt you, Cuddy. I'm right here."

He whispered into her ear while his fingers raked through her hair. Cuddy's arms wrapped around his mid section, desperately clutching onto him. The appropriate next step was unknown to House, this wasn't his thing. His mind repeatedly reminded him of this fact. However, as his boss clung onto him, he realized that he would have to improvise. His next goal was to get her talking.

Untangling his hand from her hair, House reached down to cup her tear-soaked cheek. His thumb wiped away her falling tears.

He had never before wished to endure someone else's pain until this moment. Cuddy's face wore an expression of defeat. The lips that were capable of creating the most confident smirk House had ever seen, were now quivering. She was taking quick, labored breaths, and her entire body trembled.

"Let's get out of here, Cuddy. I'll bring you inside, and you can get checked out."

Her head frantically shook a 'no', ending his speech. Although he was pleased with her responding to him, her refusal to accept help was not good.

"No."

It was a breathless whisper that he wouldn't have heard had he been any further away.

"Cuddy, you have to get looked at. You have to –

"No, please. I can't go in there. They can't see me like this."

House had to smirk at this. So she was still Cuddy after all. Even through the toughest of times, her workaholic-ism prevailed. Unable to be seen in a state of weakness by anyone. Under normal circumstances, he would be the last person she would want to see her vulnerable. But these we not normal circumstances.

She had managed to control her sobbing, but silent, painful tears still filled her eyes. Her grip on his body had now tightened further. Both sets of blue eyes remained transfixed on the other's.

"Come on, Cuddy. I'll be with you, and I'll get Cameron to do it. No one will –"

"No, House. Please, no. I don't want to. Please –"

The rest of her words choked within her throat. She was panicking.

"Shh Shh okay, okay. You don't have to go in. But, Cuddy, we can't stay here all night."

"Okay."

"Okay, what? What do you want, Cuddy?"

He continued to use her name over and over again. The excuse was that it helped her get back to reality. In truth, it just convinced his mind that the helpless women clinging onto him was, indeed, Cuddy.

"Take me home. Please just take me home."

"Okay, but someone's gonna have to –"

"You. I only want you. Please, House. Please, don't leave me."

The desperate words that left her lips broke his heart. Aside from his required work responsibilities, she had never asked him for anything. Now, she was begging. The independent women who needed nothing from no one was pleading for his attention. All she was capable of was grabbing onto him as though her life depended on it.

"Cuddy, I'm not going anywhere. I'll never leave you. Let me take you home, ok? No one will touch you. I'll take care of you."

These words set off another train of emotions as she buried her face into his shoulder. He felt her nod before shifting them both onto their knees. Between his useless leg and her heels, making it to their feet was not going to be an easy task. House broke away from her embrace for only a split second. He wrapped her arms around his neck before, painfully, he pulled them to a standing position.

"Come on, Cuddy. Let's get into the car, ok? Come on."

Her arms never unwound themselves from around his neck. She dragged her feet as he slowly steered her towards the car's door. His grip tightened around her before he spoke again.

"I have to get your keys, ok? I'm gonna have to let go of you."

She nodded once before he reluctantly let go of his hold on her. House bent to the floor where the contents of her purse were scattered everywhere. Shoving everything back into the pocketbook, he grabbed her car keys and opened the unlocked door. His hands gently guided her into the seat before his hand swept through her hair.

"We're almost out of here."

She sniffled an 'okay' before he carefully closed the car door, and limped over to his motorcycle. House unhooked his cane, and properly parked his bike. He positioned the kick stand, and hoped it would remain undisturbed over night.

He entered the Mercedes to find Cuddy curled up in the seat, staring blankly at the floor. She hugged her body and glanced up at him. Slowly lowering himself into the driver's seat, He took a deep breath, and collected himself. Starting the ignition, he pulled out of the parking garage as if on autopilot. He became ever more distracted by the touch of Cuddy's fingers, now tightly entwined with his. He would never let go.


	3. three

A roaring sound of silence was all that could be heard during the drive to Cuddy's house. For once, House didn't dare to speak. Cuddy's crying had completely ended. She didn't make a single sound. His thumb continuously grazed over the knuckles of the hand he held. It had stopped shaking, but every so often she would gently squeeze his hand. It occurred to him that she needed reassurance. She needed something to latch onto. He squeezed back.

Everything had changed between them. They did not bicker and exchange insults. There were no sexual innuendoes nor were there threats for extra clinic hours. Their unspoken rule of no physical affection what so ever had been broken over and over again.

House had always refused human contact to help himself. He felt no urge to be hugged or soothed or anything like that. With Cuddy, however, he cannot deny her of anything right now. If holding hands until his palm turns sweaty, comforts her, than so be it.

They arrived at her house around quarter to two, and Cuddy surprised him by exiting the car on her own. He trailed behind her, cane hitting the ground with a repeating thump. It was the only sound echoing throughout the suburban neighborhood.

The door creaked open as House escorted her into the 'home.' At this thought, he rolled his eyes. This was hardly her home. It was the place in which she slept. That was all. She did not feel anymore at peace here than she did anywhere else.

"I'm gonna go take a shower."

She was joking. She had to be. His independent, don't-need-a-man-for-anything, Dean of Medicine did not actually plan on washing away all chances of finding the animal that did this to her, did she?

His prediction was confirmed when he heard her bare feet padding down the hallway.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa..."

House limped furiously after her. He was suddenly irritated by the entire situation. She had to fight back! She couldn't just roll over and take this. She's Lisa Cuddy! The only person she let get away with anything was him.

His cane-free hand shot out and spun her around. Cuddy's immediate reaction was to flinch from the sudden, rough contact. Her faced turned away in preparation to be hit while her arms hugged her body for protection. House watched her cower down, and his anger diminished.

The hand wrapped around her arm loosened, and fell to his side. Looking down at the woman in front of him, he inwardly cursed his height. Her heelless feet left him towering over her. In order to meet his eyes, Cuddy had to crane her neck completely upwards.

"I. would never. Hit. You.."

It was a stern sentence, but whispered ever so gently. Now was not the time for his over powering voice to be echoing off the walls. Her eye's were glistening with fresh tears as she timidly diverted House's observing stare.

"Cuddy..."

Carefully cupping the side of her face with his hand, House directed her gaze towards himself.

"I know I'm a jerk. I know I'm an ass. But I wouldn't ever raise a hand to you. You know that right?"

She crashed into him. Her usual Ice Queen persona was dead. Her emotions that were constantly under professional control were now bursting through the dame every other minute. Her cries were muffled by his chest as her knees buckled. House painfully kept her standing as she sobbed in his arms.

"Let's go into the kitchen, ok? I'll be able to check you out better in there."

House all but carried her down the hallway of her home. Without detaching herself from his body, she dragged her feet along side him.

"Everything's gonna be okay, Cuddy. I just wanna make sure you're alright. I won't touch you if you don't want me to. Everything's going to be okay."

He felt her nod against his chest as they entered the kitchen. House turned on every light within the room and then gently lifted Cuddy onto the counter top. He sought the opportunity to release himself from her death grip, but the it never came. Even after she was perched onto the counter she clung onto his mid section.

"Shh shh it's okay. Lemme look at you."

Now at eye level with him, Cuddy finally pulled away from their embrace. With their faces only inches apart, House cradled her face with his hands and swiped away her falling tears.

"Don't cry. Don't cry."

He whispered the soothing words over and over again for what seemed like eternity. In his mind, he was failing miserably at comforting her. Her breathing returning to a steady rhythm told him otherwise.

"Cuddy, I need to look at you now. I need to make sure you're okay. You've got a lot of nasty cuts and bruises. You might need stitches."

She nodded her comprehension at the end of every sentence.

"I won't look at or touch anything without telling you first, okay? I won't do anything you don't want me to."

With a tearful nod, and whispered, "Please be gentle," she gave her approval.

It broke his heart.

"I'll be gentle, Cuddy. I'll be gentle."

House's face wore an expression of pure sadness. He never before wanted so desperately to go back in time. He wished he could rewind his watch, and walk Cuddy to her car. He wished he could've protected her. He wished he had been there the one time she needed him. But he couldn't. What happened to his boss, happened. She would forever be broken. She was now a helpless patient that even Dr. Gregory House could not cure.

It was time for the examination to begin.

His eyes reluctantly left hers, and took in the sight of her battered skin. A scrape across the side of her hairline appeared to be the result of concrete burn, and the fist shaped bruise just below it was a deep shade of purple. He shut his eyes.

"_God, this can't happening." _For a man who didn't believe in God, House found himself speaking to the Lord several times over the past hour. He reopened his eyes to see Cuddy's reaction, but found her staring across the room. She was in her own little world, and he didn't blame her.

His fingers delicately moved from the left side of her face to the bloody gash just above her eyebrow. He lightly touched the wound, and she flinched.

"Sorry. This one's gonna need to be sewed up. It's not bleeding too bad, but it still looks pretty nasty."

The rape victim did not respond. He sighed, and then moved onto inspect the rest of her head. Her split upper lip looked worse than it actually was, and House was momentarily happy. At least there would not be a scar reminding her of this night every time she went to put on lipstick.

His happiness was short lived, however, as he took in the sight of her neck. Bite marks and hickies covered her skin. The savage had all but sucked the life out of her with his mouth. He was hesitant to touch all the teeth indentations so he settled on feeling her pulse. He found her to be surprisingly calm. House shifted his pointer and middle finger to glide across the crimson skin, and feel her pain.

Cuddy brought her face down to shield her neck from his view. His fingers immediately left their place, and fell to a less intimate one. His hands gently took hers as he inspected her nails. They were dirty and held dried blood underneath them. House was careful not to disturb the evidence that would hopefully lead to _him _finding her attacker. This was no longer a matter for the police to handle. House was now fully under the impression that he was going to commit murder sometime in the near future.

His eye's traveled up her arms to find her face, but stopped as he noticed that the buttons to her blouse were not correctly fastened. _"Oh God," _was his only thought. She must have tried to retain some modesty before he came to find her in the parking garage. So shooken up that she wasn't even able to properly button up her shirt. House had the sudden urge to throw up. Judging by what her neck looked like he could only imagine what he was about to find on her chest.

"Cuddy," he watched her face while speaking, "is it okay if I open your blouse?"

She returned his gaze with dead eyes. Tears were no longer necessary for House to see her emotions. Everything she was feeling could be seen in those beautiful eyes of hers. He witnessed fear, sadness, and defeat shine within them as she nodded her permission, and then looked directly to the floor. He swallowed the lump within his throat, and lifted his hands to the front of her shirt. One by one he undid the buttons that were not ripped off by the soon to be corpse, and gently pulled apart her blouse.

The sight stung his eyes. The hickies from her neck trailed all the way down her right breast, and House could even make out more bite marks underneath her lace bra. The bastard had pulled her undergarment aside to gain more access for his assault.

This was not, however, the most horrific sight for House to see. He tightly screwed his eyes shut at the sight of her other breast A raw, red hand print was left on her light skin. He could make out all five of the man's fingers and how they latched onto her. The monster had groped her nearly two hours ago, but the residue was still here.

"_I'm sorry, Cuddy. I'm so sorry." _He felt it was an inappropriate time to speak, but that didn't stop him from repeating the phrase within his head.

Her abdomen and was painted black and blue. Bruises from what House assumed to be the result of angry punches covered her taught muscles. Apparently, Cuddy hadn't gone down without a fight. He checked for any broken ribs, and was relieved to find them alright. Gently, he closed her blouse.

Her feet and legs were for the most part alright with the exception of her lightly scrapped knees. He rubbed the torn skin in a soothing manner as he sought out her attention. She was not going to like what he was planning to do next.

"Hey," he whispered. She acknowledged his greeting by tilting her head in his direction. House craned his head to meet her eyes, and slowly tapped the inside of her knees. He hoped she would understand.

Her eyes went wide.

"House, no. I don't want to. Please, I... I," she was becoming frantic. Her hands covered his while her body began to shake.

"Whoa there. Cuddy, listen to me. We have to do this, okay. Eventually, we're going to have to do this. For now, just lemme see, and then we'll figure something out. I won't hurt you."

Her fear-filled eyes never left his as she managed to control her breathing. Slowly, she regained her composer, but still did not grant him approval. This was going to be even harder than he expected.

"House, I'm okay. Honestly, you don't have to do this. I'm fine." She was still bargaining.

"Shh, shh," his hands held her face, once again, "Cuddy, please let me see. I just need to make sure your okay. We'll take everything one step at a time."

Nothing. Not a single word or expression came from her. She remained where she was, staring helplessly at him.

"If you don't want me to be the one to check you out, Cuddy, that's perfectly fine. I won't do anything you don't want me to, but you have to get looked at. You have to."

House had never before maintained such patience with anyone. She could taken an hour to answer him, and he would have stood there and waited. It was all about her. At that moment, he would have said or done anything to regain her trust in humanity.

"No," he allowed a momentary frown at her response, "I don't want anyone else. Just you."

His fingers gently caressed the sides of her face in a reassuring manner before he tore his eyes away from hers.

Carefully, House lifted the front of her skirt, and bent down. He needed to make sure she wasn't bleeding. He could handle a simple rape kit when the time came, but if she needed surgery, that was an entirely different matter. Luckily, he found no blood, and tried to ignore the sticky substance that coated her upper, inner thighs. For the second time that night, House felt the urge to throw up. His jaw tightened in fury as he noticed her lack of underwear. The son of bitch had wanted a souvenir. A timid voice awoke him from his thoughts.

"Am I okay?"

He stood, and embraced her. Cuddy stiffened for a moment, but soon accepted the hug. She was too exhausted to cry. Laying her head against his shoulder, she surrendered herself into his care.

"You know what we need to do now, right?"

He spoke quietly into her hair, and felt her gently nod. He smiled. She was getting stronger.

"I'm gonna have someone bring me the stuff so you don't have to go to the hospital."

"Who's gonna – "

"Don't worry about it. I'll figure everything out, okay?"

"Okay."

House's next action would forever be a mystery. How he was able to do this was incomprehensible. One moment he was hugging her, the next he was carrying her into the living room. Cuddy's face was buried into the crook of his neck and her arms were wrapped tightly around him as he lowered her onto the couch.

He draped a blanket over her, and pulled the coffee table to the edge of the couch. Cuddy reached for his hand and held onto him as she drifted to sleep. House watched her lay there peacefully, saddened by the fact he would have to disturb her in only a short amount of time. This god forsaken night was far from over. There were still very necessary matters for them to attend to. He allowed himself only one extra moment to watch the sleeping beauty.

Finally, he reached into his pocket, and retrieved his cell phone. Dialing a very familiar number, he waited for the other end to pick up, and was not surprised by the hostility he received once it did.

"Before you hang up, please just listen. Cuddy was raped. I don't know the specifics yet, but she's banged up pretty bad. I'm at her house, and she doesn't wanna go to the hospital. I cant leave her, but I need a rape kit. I know we're not exactly on good terms right now but this is for her, not for me."

He could hear the person on the other line wrestling with their clothes as they promised to be at Cuddy's house in twenty minutes. Before House disconnected the phone call he muttered a quick,

"Thanks, Wilson."


	4. four

He was watching an angel sleep. She lay there in a peaceful slumber looking adorable with her pouted lips and hair in knots. She looked younger. The little ball she curled herself into left the illusion of an innocent child. Her features were virgin like as she slept.

House's eyes prickled with emotion. Unanswered questions swarmed within his ingenious brain. How could this have happened? Why was she at the hospital so late? Why was her car parked in the back? Did she recognize her attacker? He rubbed the back of his neck with frustration.

Wilson. He would be there in moments, fully equipped with a rape kit and mothering persona. He was the answer to all of House's problems. His former best friend could nurture and care for Cuddy in a way he never could. Wilson would be able to put all his differences with House aside for the benefit of their Dean of Medicine.

Irony chilled his body as it ran through his veins. House had begged Wilson to help Cuddy in the same way the Oncologist had begged him to save Amber. What goes around, comes around.

His thoughts were interrupted by the vibrating of his cell phone. A text message announced Wilson's arrival.

"_I'm here."_

Taking one last look at Cuddy, he made his way to the front door. Even if he wanted nothing to do with him, House was overwhelmed with joy at the sight of Wilson.

Both men stood on opposite sides of the doorway. Neither looked the other in the eye as an uncomfortable silence filled the air. House fiddled impatiently with his cane as Wilson picked at the zipper of the oversized gym bag he held.

Wilson spoke first, "How is she?"

House sighed deeply at the loaded question. "Come in," was his only reply.

Walking past the living room, Wilson followed House into the kitchen. They spoke in whispered sentences.

"She's sleeping at the moment, but she's been crying off and on since I got her."

"Got her? What happened?"

"I was at home when she called me. She was crying and told me where she was, and – "

"Where was she?" Impatience clawed at the younger doctor. This was all happening too fast.

"Hey, you wanna tell the story?"

"Sorry," Wilson frowned. "Go on."

They gently smirked at one another. They were a team again. Their friendship was still broken, but the duo was once again on the same page. Both trying to save House's patient. Both striving for the same goal.

"I found her in the parking garage at the hospital. Wilson, you wouldn't of even recognized her. She was terrified of me. She couldn't stop crying, or even get out a complete sentence. She refused to get checked out, so I brought her here."

Wilson tightly shut his eyes and shook his head. Obviously, asking himself the same questions House had been asking God since first wrapping Cuddy in his arms.

Snapping out of his trance, he asked, "How's she now?"

"Well, she's calmed down a bit, but I don't know how long that'll last." House's unlikely humbleness kept him from disclosing to Wilson the way Cuddy held onto him.

"Okay then, so what's the plan? How are we gonna handle all of this?"

The reference to them as 'we' did not go unnoticed by House. It was probably only temporary, but his buddy was back.

"I'm gonna take a look at her here, then you can take everything back to the hospital."

"What about the Police?"

"I'll bring her to the Station in the morning. I think she's had enough for tonight."

"Apparently so have you." Wilson closely inspected House's exhausted demeanor. The man gripped his cane with white knuckles, and stared down at the floor with blood shot eyes.

"It's Cuddy, ya know. I just couldn't... She's," House stuttered. At a loss for words, he cast his eyes towards the living room.

"I know," Wilson uttered gently. "Can I see her?"

His co-worker nodded, and led him to where Cuddy slept. "Before I wake her up," House instructed, "help me shut the blinds, and set up."

"Okay."

Of course, when Dr. House said '_help_,' he meant '_do_.' The cripple's handy dandy sidekick obediently got to work.

Wilson carefully closed the blinds, and placed the gigantic duffle bag onto the coffee table. Careful not to switch on anything too bright, he turned on a couple dim lamps, and brought a few hand towels from the bathroom. All the while, not noticing the way House was threading his fingers though their boss' hair.

He did finally notice, however. Stopping abruptly in the middle of the room, his eyes absorbed the intimate moment.

House eased down beside Cuddy, and took her hand within his. Rubbing soothing circles across her palm, Wilson was only faintly capable of hearing House's gentle words.

"Hey," sleepy beauty's eyes fluttered open. "You have to wake up now.

Cuddy reluctantly awoke, and wrapped her arms around House. The Diagnostician caressed the back of her head as she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

The sight pulled at Wilson's heart strings. Two people, so hurt, so damaged, trying to make sense of what was happening to them. The man doing everything he could, and yet failing miserably to protect his woman. Wilson knew the feeling.

House was whispering into Cuddy's ear when she finally withdrew her face from it's hiding place. Her eyes found Wilson almost immediately. Her grip on House tightened.

"It's okay. It's just Wilson."

House reassured Cuddy of Wilson's presence and looked up at his friend. The Oncologist stood there dumbfounded at Cuddy's reaction to him. Fear. That was all Wilson could think of to describe the look in her eyes when she saw him. Her hands had clutched House's leather jacket so tightly, her knuckles were white. It was as though she didn't even recognize him.

He was horrified by the cuts and bruises that covered her skin. The position in which she slept left her body and face hidden from his view. Now, Wilson could see every tarnished piece of her soul. Dr. Cuddy was gone. A frightful, innocent child lay in House's arms.

She noticed his pitty-filled stare and turned away.

"Here," House wrapped the blanket around her, "Sit up. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner you can shower and go to bed. That sound good?"

A faint, "Yeah" was her only response.

"Wilson, get me a bowl of warm water, and some type of robe from the bathroom."

Once his friend exited the room, House returned his attention to Cuddy. Her head still lay on his shoulder, but her nerves seemed to have calmed with the absence of Wilson. His self-absorbed inner voice was wishing she had called Wilson instead of himself. Then he would be the one she was terrified of and be clinging onto Wilson instead. The last thing House wanted to do was to be someone's crutch. "_Yeah, keep telling yourself that. She needs you. Get it together, you pussy."_

In the end, the latter voice in his head won.

"Alright, Cuddy. Let's do this."

He pulled away from her embrace, and sat himself on the coffee table. Unzipping the duffle bag, House had to chuckle at the contents inside. Apparently, Wilson had stolen. It seemed as though his friend had packed everything but the MRI machine. Needles, thread, band-aids, gauze, latex gloves, swabs, thermometers, and everything in between, filled the bag. It was the Medical Mary Poppins' Pocketbook. House even saw a vial of Morphine. Which reminded him, how long had it been since he took his Viccoden?

His thoughts were interrupted by Wilson's footsteps. The 'thief' draped a grey, flannel robe over the arm rest of the sofa, and put down the lukewarm bowl of water beside House. While staring at the floor he softly spoke.

"I'll be in the kitchen."

House acknowledged his sentence with a nod. Cuddy remained lost in her own mind as she stared off into space. The Oncologist all but tip toed away.

Slowly, House reached out and brought Cuddy's chin up with his hand. She removed herself from the blanket's warmth and sat up straight. In her lap, her fingers fiddled with the pearl bracelet that hugged her wrist. That was never a good sign. Although she always looked adorable when she played with her jewelry, it was a distinct indicator that something was wrong. Guilty washed over House. He was more often than not, the cause of her fidgeting.

"Okay, you wanna start with the easy stuff first?"

She shrugged.

"Alrighty then." He couldn't remember a time where he had been more nervous. This was the absolute last thing he ever wanted to do. "I think we should get the nasty stuff over with. Then I'll just have to clean you up and we're good to go. Is that okay? It's up to you, Cuddy. Whatever you want."

"Just get it over with," was her only reply.

Everything was done by her permission only. She needed to be in control. She needed to have a say in what happened to her body. House's wasn't just going to start touching and swabbing her without some type of indication that she was allowing it.

He put on the latex gloves and removed tons of small zip-lock bags from Wilson's medical supplies. Gently, he cleared her finger nails of all dried blood and skin particles. After ever swab, he packaged the evidence. He figured swabbing her mouth was a long shot, but this was Cuddy and he wasn't going to take any chances.

"I'm gonna take some blood, okay?" His fingers felt the steady pulse in her wrist.

"Kay."

Carefully, he found the vein in her arm and filled two needles, just in case. God forbid, one would break. Cuddy would not like the idea of repeating this little event. Not to mention, he was going to have Wilson's run ever possible test. For the hundredth time that night, House prayed his boss would be alright.

"Cuddy." Her name was a statement of it's own. They both knew what was next. Neither wanted it, but it had to be done.

She made the moment slightly easier for him by not making him speak. She simply laid down and draped her arms across her abdomen. House's eyes never left hers as he sat beside her.

"Is it okay if I --"

"It's fine." She didn't snap at him. Her voice was just above a whisper, but it was clear she did not wish to talk.

That was perfectly fine with House. Speaking was not necessary.

He unzipped her skirt and cautious pulled it down and off her legs. Never once did he look at the task. The garment was folded and placed into a large plastic bag. The Hospital could make sure no trace of the man was on her clothes, and then House could bury them in the same place he buried the bastard. _"Take it easy there, pal. Now's not the time to be getting frustrated."_

When the time came, his eyes took in the absolutely bare minimum of silky smooth skin. His fingers barely touched her. Every so often he would look up to see silent tears rolling down her cheeks. House excused the stinging sensation behind his eyes as tiredness. He collected the disgusting DNA sample in record time. It wasn't over.

"I need to make sure there's no tearing."

A whimper escaped Cuddy's sealed lips. She was breaking down all over again, and he was the reason. The moment fed his self loathing wonderfully.

"I'm so sorry, Cuddy."

She turned her face towards the ceiling and nodded. He wasted no time and worked in an unbelievably fast pace. His hands trembled as they inspected her. She was squirming beneath his touch and gripped the side of the couch. It became apparent to House that she was reliving her raping within her head. He was the cause of her pain. His fingers touching her sex reminded her of that animal. A single tear escaped his lifeless blue eye.

"You're okay. Everything's going to be okay."

He dropped a hand towel into the bowl of warm water, and rung it out. Softly, he cleaned any excess filth, and covered her with the blanket.

"Here, let's get you into this robe."

House removed the latex gloves, and helped her sit up. She removed her shirt as he swiped away her falling tears with his thumb. He looked away when she went to unclasp her bra, and didn't return his gaze until he heard her shuffling with the robe.

"Almost done, okay?"

"Yeah." He frowned at the answer. "I don't need to be numbed for the stitches."

Although he didn't agree with her, it was good to have her talking to him.

"Cuddy, I really think – "

"I'm fine."

He wasn't going to argue. He cleaned her wound with antiseptic, and bandaged the side of her head. A warm, wet hand towel was all the was needed for her lip, however. House gently dabbed her beautiful mouth while looking into her eyes. He smiled softly.

"You're going to be okay, Cuddy. I'm gonna take care of you from now on."

He wasn't sure if his words brought her any comfort. But he was a firm believer in the truth, and he always spoke the truth. House planned on never letting her out of his sight again.

The stitching of the gash above her eyebrow went by quicker than either of them suspected. After years of Diagnostics, House had not lost the Emergency Room skill. He was careful not to hurt her, and she returned to fiddling with her bracelet.

Finally, he announced, "We're finished."

Her response was to take a deep breath and sit back. "May I go take a shower?"

House immediately stopped packing up the gym bag, and looked at Cuddy. He took her hand and whispered, "You don't ever have to ask my permission, okay? This is your house... no pun intended."

A tiny twitch at the side of her mouth gave him hope. In his heart of hearts, he believed he had just made Cuddy smile.


	5. five

The world was ugly. Everything his psychotic friend had ever said was right. People don't change. Everybody lies. Hope is for sissies. House, as usual, had been right. The love of his life was dead, and one of his closest friends might as well have been. Amber was gone and so was Cuddy.

He wasn't a brooder, but as Wilson leaned against the counter in Cuddy's kitchen, he brooded. With his arms crossed and eyes to the floor, he slipped into a dark depression. He gazed into the nothingness that is his life, and became a prisoner of his own mind.

Wilson heard them. The distinct sound of House's cane thumping against the floor awoke him from his thoughts. He quickly stood up straight and awaited the entrance of his two friends. This was the moment. This could make or break him. He needed hope. He needed some type of sign that Cuddy was going to be okay.

House appeared in the doorway first. His haggard and worn down face nodded in Wilson's direction as he entered the room. The Oncologist watched the cripple limp without his cane and one arm behind his back. He was leading Cuddy, by the hand, into the room. The scene was one of a bashful child hiding behind her father. Her small body could not be seen behind his. It was scary to see her so nervous. House had stopped in front of Wilson, but she had yet to show herself.

Cuddy slowly made an appearance by stepping along side House. She grasped his hand with both of hers, and rested her cheek against his bicep. Her vulnerability shocked Wilson. She was standing on her own, but her features allowed him to see all the pent up pain and desperation within her.

House's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"You can stop staring at her. I promise she won't bite."

Typical. His friend was uncomfortable with the situation so he deflected. Wilson expected another sarcastic comment, but was surprised when silence filled the room. House wanted him to take the lead?

At first, Wilson stuttered to find the right words.

"Okay so here's the plain." Two sets of amazingly sad, blue eyes watched him. They would be fine on their own. They would take care of each other. They would protect each other. Technically, they didn't need him. But they wanted him. For Wilson, that was more than enough.

"I'm gonna go back to the hospital and run all the tests. Cuddy," his eyes found hers. "I'll tell them you're ill and won't be in tomorrow. I'll take care of everything and be the fill-in Dean. All that okay with you?"

He noticed her to be standing straighter now. Her small hands still grasped onto House, but her body was no longer half-hidden behind him. The newly elected leader awaited her answer.

"Yeah," she spoke. Cuddy had found her voice. She was no longer speaking in whispers. Her words were quite and soft, but she did not tremble in the way she had when Wilson first saw her. "That sounds good to me. Thank you."

Both men smiled. The Oncologist gently nodded and turned to his friend.

"I'll handle your team. They shouldn't be bothering you until you decide to come back. Do you have a patient?"

House shook his head, "No."

"Good. That makes everything a lot easier." Wilson shifted uncomfortably. He didn't quite know what else to say.

He recovered by energetically placing his hands on his hips. "Alright then. I'll call when I get the results."

"Thanks Wilson." The Diagnostician did that half smirk, almost a smile thing he did with his lips. Cuddy's only response was to nod her head and continued to hang onto House.

To both his friends' surprises, House extended his arm to shake Wilson's hand. The gesture so uncharacteristic, Wilson took a second delay to remain awestruck. He quicky regained his composure and firmly shook hands with the man who was partially responsible for his girlfriend's death.

"Your welcome." The two men looked each other in the eyes and understood. They understood each other's pain and loneliness. Their friendship could slowly be repaired.

The younger doctor made eye contact with the Dean of Medicine, and offered a smile. "We're gonna get through this, Cuddy." He glanced to House and then back to his boss. "The three of us."

Life flashed through her eyes. For a small moment in time, her helpless blue orbs were filled with hope. She didn't reply to him, or even nod her head. Her physical position showed no sign of change or healing. But Wilson had seen it. His boyish, Prince charming ways allowed him to see what could be. He smiled his dopey smile, "Alright then. I'll call when I get the test results."

He nodded, and headed into the living room with an extra spring to his step. The coffee table had been carefully organized by House. There was a pile of supplies to remain at the home, a pile of garbage, and the duffle bag for Wilson to bring to the hospital. The Oncologist grabbed the bag, and re-entered the kitchen to find House and Cuddy, once again, embracing.

Both were oblivious to his presence. Cuddy's face was hidden from his view as it was turned away from him, and her head was tucked under House's chin. Her arms wrapped around his body with her elbows pointing towards the floor, and delicate, feminine hands resting upon his shoulders. Wilson watched his friend mumble reassuring words into dark, knotted curls.

She was engulfed in his arms. House's fingers threaded through her hair as his lips moved across the crown of her head. His face wearing an expression of vulnerability with his brows frowned and his eyes closed. Wilson watched the scene before and silently nodded. Walking out of the house, he smiled. Everything was going to be okay.


	6. six

**A/N: I know. I know. I know. This update has taken FOREVER. I'm so sorry to keep you all waiting, but just so you know, i wrote this chapter about three different times. I kept changing everything over and over again, but i think i finally got it right. Not to mention i made it super long to make up for how short chapter five was. Anyways, i have been slaving over this for about three weeks and must say that im very proud of it soooo please, please, please lemme know what you think :)**

**Sorry for such a long A/N but there's more..**

**I wanted to let everyone know that i've been trying to reply to each and every comment, but as more people review it gets very confusing and i forget who has and who hasnt gotten some sort of thank you from me. I know most authors dont really reply to their readers that often but oh well, im different. **

**Special thanks to Sandra!! Youve left me amazingly generous reviews for each and every chapter, but you dont have an account so i cant reply. I just wanted to let you know i really appreciate youre feedback. Youre too cute :)**

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Protective was not an adjective Gregory House ever used to describe himself. His 'lone-wolf' lifestyle left him socially isolated, and separated from all things 'instinct-like.' Although he was scientifically and genetically programed to want to care for the opposite sex, he never quite experienced the feeling. Sure he had loved, but never before had he felt this _possessed_. House had an animalistic instinct coursing through his veins. He was going to keep the woman in his arms safe. He was going to hide her from the world, and make sure nothing ever bothered her again. Lisa Cuddy would forever be his responsibility.

Standing there with his boss, House was only faintly aware of how much time had passed since Wilson's departure. Cuddy had refused to break their content state in the kitchen, and House made no protest either. She wanted nothing but to be held. He granted her wish.

It was Cuddy who eventually withdrew herself from his arms. He watched her face grimace as she lowered her hands to grab hold as his.

"Are you okay?" Stupid question. Obviously she wasn't okay.

"Yeah, I'm just a little..." Cuddy's sentence faded away. She looked up at her employee with big, puppy dog eyes. Too weak to refuse help, too much pride to ask for it.

"Sore?" House offered.

"Yeah."

He solemnly nodded and rubbed soothing circles across her knuckles.

"Okay, then. Let's get some drugs in ya." Stepping away from her, he made a comedic scene of rummaging through her kitchen cabinets. His goofy, childlike faces and sounds created a smile on Cuddy's face. "What do ya want? Tylenol? Vicodin? Morphine?"

A small giggle filled the room.

"Morphine's a bit much for some muscles aches. Don't you think, Dr. House?"

The Diagnostician chuckled as he made his way back over to Cuddy. "Never stopped me."

His comment earned him an eye roll as he rubbed her arms.

"How about some food, hmm? You hungry?"

"No, I'm okay."

"Okay then. How bout you go get some clothes, and run the bath water?" Her eyes widened with fear and desperation. "I'll be there in a minute. Don't worry." House watched her sigh before she exited the kitchen.

Cuddy had only left his sight for half a second before he was dry swallowing two Vicodin. Relief flooded his system as the drug dissolved in the pit of his stomach. House bent to massage his damaged thigh when he heard the soft, feminine sound of little feet padding towards him. Suddenly ashamed of his addiction, House shoved the pill bottle back into his jacket pocket, and avoided her eyes at all cost.

Gently, she reached out and took hold of the leather material that hugged his body. House quietly watched her slide the jacket over his shoulders and remove the garment off of him. Smooth, carefully carved wood hit his knuckles. She had brought him his cane.

House took the symbol of his handicap. A whispered, "thank you," escaped his lips as Cuddy left the room for a second time.

He allowed only a short moment to dwell on his self-loathing. He had a bag leg, she had just been raped. Why the hell was she taking care of him? _'Because she's Cuddy, and that's what she does.' _He quickly shook his head of all thoughts. Now was not the time for his pessimistic brain to be analyzing his every action.

Continuing the task at hand, House moved through the kitchen with more stability. He ignored her pervious protests to food, and made a sandwich. Placing one of his Vicodin onto the plate, and grabbing a bottled water, he shuffled unevenly down the hallway.

He slowly entered her bedroom. The room was vacant, but the light from a beside lamp told him she had been there. He placed her food, water, and pill on the night stand, House headed towards the bathroom. He had not taken two steps before she appeared in the doorway.

"Oh. Hey, umm.." She looked uncertain. Her face wearing an expression of agony. Her eyes asking a question she couldn't voice. He waited patiently. "Could you wait in the bathroom while I shower?"

"Of course." She was afraid to be alone.

House leaned heavily on his cane as he led her out of the bedroom. Cuddy's hand felt weak and frail in his grasp. Her vulnerability had returned with the timid plea of not being left alone.

Upon entering the small bathroom, he could sense her panic. Lisa Cuddy was claustrophobic. He didn't quite know the reason why or how he even knew at all, but that was of no importance. The only thing that mattered was Cuddy, standing in this tiny compartment with a man towering over her.

House stepped away from her. Giving his boss the space she needed, he sat on the bathtub's edge and ran the water. The calloused, rough hand, that was not holding his cane, tested the water. His new occupation. He vowed to protect her from everything. From rabid animals to the shower's temperature. Nothing would ever harm her again.

He felt her. Not physically. He felt her in the same way he felt her presence after the Deep Brain Stimulation. She had lured him out of the coma. Now, once again, her angelic presence filled the room, and wrapped a security blanket around him. House could tell she had calmed. Sad, grey-green eyes stared blankly at him. He turned to face her.

Cuddy dropped her eyes to the floor as soon as he met her gaze. With the appearance of a shy child, she leaned against the sink with her toes pointed inward and fingers tugging at her bracelet. In one word, she looked, _'adorable.'_

Hooking his cane on the door knob, House returned into Cuddy's personal space. He unclasped the pearls that hugged her small wrist. His fingers, cautious and gentle as they danced delicately across her skin. All the while offering her his gorgeous, trademark smirk.

"Need help getting in?"

A small shake of her head told him 'no.'

Seating himself on the toilet, patiently watching the wall. His hand mechanically rubbing his thigh as he awaited the sound of water hitting pale, beautiful flesh.

Eventually he was able to change his line of vision and examine the patterns of the shower's lavender curtain. Seconds turned into several minutes as House watched the room fill with hot steam. She had turned the water to an almost scorching temperature. Determined to cleanse herself of all impurity. He sighed deeply at the tiny gesture, and internally gave her a time limit.

Another five minutes passed before House was back on his feet, making his way over to Cuddy's current shelter.

"Cuddy?" His voice was one of disappointment. He had hoped she would be able to end this God forsaken night without another break down.

Her reply was shaky and just loud enough for him to hear over the falling water. "Just a minute."

"Cuddy, you've been in there for awhile. Come on... the water's gonna get cold."

No answer. All he heard was a sniffle. Making a quick decision, House pulled the shower's curtain aside just enough for him to see her.

The sight twisted his stomach into knots. Cuddy stood there, beneath the showering water, trembling. Her back faced him with beautiful, Jewish curls plastering her shoulders, and head in her hands. Soft, delicate fingers covered her undeserved shame. House kept his gaze on the back of her head. Never once did his eyes trail over the luscious curves of her body. He timidly out stretched his arm and shut the shower off.

Cuddy immediately stiffened. She did not turn around nor did she uncover her face. The Diagnostician quickly found an oversized towel draped over the door, and fully opened the tub's entrance. He wrapped her in the towel's warmth and pulled her to his chest. His boss's self-created waterworks returned with a vengeance. Cuddy clung onto him as though her life depended on it, and sobbed until she hiccupped.

"I'm sorry. I.. I.. I.." Most of her pleas were muffled by his chest, but she was still trying desperately to speak.

"Shh. It's okay. Calm down. Everything's okay."

"I'm sorry, House." Between the hiccupping and the crying, he could hardly understand her. "I'm sorry. I.. I.. I feel dirty."

And then he died.

House's head and lungs were perfectly healthy, but his heart had just stopped beating. He hated the world now more than he ever had before. An infarction and gun shots were pleasurable compared to this current feeling of pure pain lodged deep into the center of his chest. Framing her face with his hands, House sought her attention.

"Cuddy, look at me." Her eyes remained closed. Locking herself away from the world seemed to be her current goal. "Please, Lisa. Look at me."

He received a reaction. Tentatively, Cuddy looked up at House. Her face was cleaned of all dirt, blood, and smeared make-up. The stitched wound above her brow had left her eye swollen almost completely shut. Perfect, pink, split lips puckered into the most beautiful pout House had ever seen. She gasped for each and every breath as he brushed away her falling tears. All the while keeping eye contact with her.

With his eyes wide with desperation, House spoke. "Listen to me, okay?" He waited for some type of response. When he felt her head nod withing his grasp, he continued. "You have done absolutely nothing wrong. You're not dirty, Cuddy. You are not dirty."

Sucking her lower lip into her mouth, Cuddy shut her eyes and nodded. Not entirely believing her employee, the Dean of Medicine attempted to quite her crying.

Bringing her into his chest, House patted her back in a mocking comfort. "There, There."

A giggle shook the small body he held. Her harsh breathing slowly steadying with each second she spent in House's arms. He digested her extreme mood swings while she grew stronger, and eventually, released herself from his hold.

House took a step away from her, and bent his head to meet her eyes. Carefully watching each and every emotion that appeared on her face. He had a gift for observation, and had spent twenty years of his life observing Lisa Cuddy. Tonight was no different.

"I'll wait outside."

Leaning heavily on his cane, House exited the bathroom without bothering to shut the door. Leaving her alone in an empty room was the absolute last thing he planned to do. She was still too fragile to fend for herself. He wondered if she would ever be what she once was. Would she ever argue with him again? Would she regain that small amount of confidence she had of herself?

He sat at the foot of her bed with his head in his hands. Listening to the sounds of Cuddy rustling around clumsily in the bathroom, he contemplated a strategy on how to get her talking. She needed to answer his questions. As awful as it was that she would have to relive her nightmare, it was necessary. If she couldn't tell him what happened, how was she going to speak to the police?

He was exhausted. Too many questions. Too much crying. Too many feelings. He couldn't handle all of this.

"House?"

His head lifted immediately. All previous doubts gone with the sight of her in baggy sweat pants and a long-sleeved shirt. Beauty radiated off of her, brightening the dim room with her purity. She was the light of his life.

A soft, "Hey," left his lips as he watched her. Cuddy took short, cautious steps when advancing towards him. In her hand was an oddly familiar t-shirt.

"It's yours." She out stretched her arm to hand him the garment. "I left it here by accident the last time I did your laundry."

He offered her a small smile. Once again, she had went out of her way to take care of him. Doing his laundry while he recovered from the Deep Brain Stimulation. Too high maintenance to deliver his frat-boy styled clothes to a laundry mat, she had done them herself. House had yet to re-wash a certain sweater because it smelt of her detergent.

He stood without the aid of his cane, and gently took hold of the t-shirt. Never unlocking his eye contact with her, he spoke slowly and at a normal volume.

"Thank you."

His boss shyly blushed and hung her head. He loathed her uneasiness. No longer did she see herself as his equal. Every word she spoke to him was coated with caution and fear. Her entire posture was submissive. She did not stand up straight nor confidently rest her hands on her hips. Cuddy looked up at him as though he was in some way better than her. She saw him as being bigger, smarter, more powerful. It sickened him.

He had an idea.

Standing up, House tossed the new shirt onto the bed, and pulled the shirt he wore up and over his head. Naked from the waist up, he watched her reaction. Cuddy nervously looked around the room. She was extremely uncomfortable with the sight of his bare torso. Guilt arose within him, but he was quick to ignore it. Manipulating her vulnerability was currently a necessity. He needed to re-teach the most basic fact known to every American. We are all equal.

"Cuddy, come here." She would obey him, of that he was certain. He just hoped she would cooperate before her fight or flight kicked in.

She was slow to respond. Never did she voice her concern, but the expression on her face told him everything. Tears welled in her blood shot eyes as she took one step to stand directly in front of the tamed beast.

With only a few inches between them, House took hold of her hands. He was extraordinary careful with the way he handled her. She was shaking. It was subtle, but he felt it. The little tremors of fear racking her body made the saddens in his blue eyes glisten. He went to speak, but found his voice had all but left him. Clearly his parched throat, House whispered, "I'm not gonna hurt you."

House brought her hands up to his face. He watched a mixture of fright and confusion cross her features as his stubbled jaw scratched her palms. Remaining perfectly still, he waited for her to relax. The shaking of her hands did not stop, but, eventually, the visible tension within her shoulders seemed to lessen.

He lowered his hands to docilely encircle her wrists. His hold was not in the least bit firm. The goal was to give her guidance, not control her. Witnessing curiosity overcome fear, House watched her head cock to the side. Her thumbs were the first to move. She stroked his face with wonder filling her eyes. How could someone of the same species that brutalized her be this gentle?

The good, innocent man's eye lids became heavy as she caressed his face. Eventually, House succumbed to the need of closing his eyes and leaning his cheek into her touch. Cuddy was reminded of a past time. A time when men were more than just animals. They were actual human beings. Breathing, caring, loving human beings. She allowed his nose to nuzzle into her palm as her other hand danced across his features. Feeling the creases in his forehead, his eye lashes, and even his lips, Cuddy let out a shaky breath.

House opened his eyes to find her crying. Silent tears streamed down her face as she looked up at him. Reaching up to her right hand, he moved her hold to his neck. Allowing her to feel his pulse, he gave her authority. In the animal kingdom, exposing one's neck symbolized a surrender. Symbolically, House granted Cuddy the right to dominant him, to kill him. To do everything to him that the monster had done to her. He was proving that she was just as strong and as powerful as he was.

Cuddy could do nothing but remain speechless. No words could describe the dull ache within her. Her mind screamed for her to embrace him. To wrap her arms around the brilliant angel before her, and thank him. He was harmless. Never would this man lay a hand, to hurt, on her. But it wasn't enough. No matter how gentle and wonderful he was. She could no longer trust. House's appearance was the far opposite of her attacker, and yet, every time he stood, towering over her, she felt her defenses rise to their fullest. Muscles clenching in anticipation to run from him. The hands holding her wrists were large and strong. They could crush her.

She was wearing her heart on her sleeve. House calculated everything from her body language to her crying eyes. She was still broken. He tried one last time.

Lifting her hand from his neck, House brought her trembling fingers to her own chest. Careful not to be inappropriate or too forward, he lay her hand above her heart and held it there. He wished for her to feel her heart beat. To remind her of life, and how it had more than what this one night had to offer her.

There had been a time when he had felt indifferent of death. It lasted only so long, however. Waking up in an ICU with nothing but your boss, and the knowledge that you aided to end the life of your only friend's girlfriend tended to change things. Now, he had things to live for. A certain Oncologist and the most beautiful Endocrinologist in the world.

House waited patiently. For what, he did not know. He wanted to see a reaction, or hear her speak. Anything to show that he had somehow gotten through to her. Nothing. Cuddy simply stood there, feeling her own heart beat and staring into his eyes. It was a second before he admitted defeat when she moved.

Her hand left it's position over her heart and landed on his chest. No words were spoken as she discovered the evidence of his nature. He had a heart. House was not some monster stalking his prey and waiting to strike. She was safe with him.

Closing the small space between them, Cuddy wrapped her arms around his stomach and lay her ear to his heart. She listened closely to the beating muscle that held never ending care for her. All the while ignoring how much bigger he was than her. House was nothing she needed to fear. He was her protector.

House returned her affection with happiness blooming within him. Finally, some progress was being made. She trusted him. Now everything else would fall into place. With his fingers brushing through her wet hair, House smiled at the top of her head. He was so proud of her.

Cuddy lifted her head to meet his eyes. Literally and figuratively she was still 'looking up to him.' However, the fear had left her eyes. He was no longer someone she had to bow down to. He was David, not Goliath. Everything she feared was non-existent within the comfort of his arms.

Gregory House was not one to accept the instincts imprinted on his genetic code. However, every time he held _her_, the alpha male in the back of his mind grew stronger and stronger. Cuddy was his.


	7. seven

**A/N: i'm baaaack! two computer viruses and a lost usb port have delayed this chapter for far too long. i am very sorry :) **

**i hope everybody likes this chapter, it's super long. also, please make note that it is quite graphic, but i tried to still make it tasteful. most likely, this is the second to last chaper of this fic. im already working on two other ideas for my next little project :)**

**special thanks to babywonderland for all your support!! you're the best 3**

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Progression was now obtainable. The duo spent only a moment in each other's arms before a growl created by Cuddy's stomach disturbed their heavenly silence.

House laughed. "Not hungry, my ass."

An amused smirk lit up her face. Her most difficult employee was a pleasant distraction. His annoying, child-like nature was humorous and relaxing compared to the cruel and stressful events of the evening. Things were looking up.

House aided Cuddy onto the bed. Careful not to further injure her battered body, his hands were feather light while guiding her by the hips. She seemed unconcerned with his choice of hand placement. He had earned her trust.

He watched her face grimace in pain. Sore muscles protested her wish to sit Indian style with her back against the bed's headboard. He cushioned the strain by placing one of the bed's many pillows behind her.

"What is it with women and their need to have thousands of pillows?"

The Dean of Medicine giggled appreciatively as he tucked her pretzeled legs beneath the covers, and placed the sandwich he made onto her lap. Sitting back, towards the foot of the bed, he propped his damaged leg onto the comfortable surface, and put on the clean t-shirt she had brought him.

"Thank you..." She looked everywhere. From the food and Vicodin on the plate in her lap, to the bathroom door, to his stunning blue eyes. "For everything."

Sincerity was the only thing held within her stare. She wasn't scared, just grateful. All the rotten things he had ever said or done to her were forgiven. His compassion and care for her in the last two and a half hours undid twenty years of mistreatment and abuse. Her gaze bore into his soul, uncovering his most brutal regrets.

Shame wrapped around his mind and heart, and squeezed the life out of him. Like a coward, he turned his face, averting her eyes, and studied the carpet, "Your welcome."

Determined to end the awkwardness and deflect his unwanted emotions, House took the bottled water from the night stand and opened it. Handing it to her while picking up the white pill off of her plate, he spoke.

"Take the pill first." Hoping to turn the mood into a more friendly atmosphere, his word selection was for comic-relief purposes. "Your belly won't like the idea of digesting that sandwich _then_ the medicine."

A small laugh bubbled from her.

"Thanks Dad." The purple bags beneath her eyes seemed less daunting when she smiled.

"Oh shut up, and just take the damn pill already." His words were light, not harsh. Their banter was nothing like their usual arguments. No cheap shots, no innuendoes. However, he recognized her sarcasm as a sign for better things to come. To wish for a full recovery was ridiculous, but House, for once, went against the odds, the statistics. Maybe the hospital bureaucrat was simply wounded, not in every sense of the word, but literally, dead.

'_She was never really that tough anyway.'_ Again, his pessimistic mind showed it's true colors. Reminding him that she was never quite as tough as she pretended to be. He had always seen her as a sheep in wolf's clothing.

Sly and slick, she conned millions of dollars out of stuck-up benefactors. Fierce and aggressive, she could make world renown, feminist doctors embarrassed and awestruck. Witty and brilliant, she spurred against him without stutter.

But her eyes. Her eyes betrayed the portrait she had painted of herself. The blue, green stained glass windows to her soul told him everything he needed to know.

Behind the facade of a strict administrator was the naive college girl he had known all those years ago. She was still so unsure of herself. Still wanting to prove herself an equal to all those around her. Cuddy had always sought out control. She needed it. He could only imagine how hard she must of fought against _'it.' _Kicking and screaming until every last ounce of strength she had was ripped away.

The thought infuriated him.

House turned his head to stare at the wall. His teeth clenched as his jaw tightened. Heat scored his cheeks and his hands balled into fists. _'As soon as I find that son of a bit–'_

"House?"

Her soft voice awoke him from his trance. He instantly returned his full attention to her, and the concerned look on her face.

"Are you okay?" She asked the question hesitantly. From the look in his eyes, Cuddy could tell what his thoughts were. Suddenly, she lost her appetite.

The angry creases in his forehead loosened. It was difficult for him to hold back. Years of an uncensored personality had House fighting to compose himself.

"Yeah, I'm okay." He scooted himself closer to her. All the while ignoring his new found liking to being so incredibly close to her. Having her within his personal space no longer threatened his nerves. The need to touch her was almost overwhelming.

"You seem mad." The statement was cautious. Her fear of him had ended, however, she has always been frightened by his reactions. He was always so spontaneous, unpredictable. It wrecked her scheduled lifestyle.

House moved his lips from side to side. His secret urge grew to be too great, and he reached his hand out to her cheek. The knuckle of his index finger stroked up and down her baby-soft skin as he spoke.

"Yup, I'm pissed. How dare you not fight off someone who was probably twice your size. I mean, come on – "

"I didn't say mad at me." Half a smile crept onto her face. His awkwardness in cheering her up was comforting. Although everything else in her world had changed, he was the same. He was still House. He brought normalcy back into her life with one stupid, ignorant comment at a time.

His casual smirk replied to her crooked smile.

"I was deflecting. I know I don't usually do that but..." His voice trailed off with sarcasm dripping from every syllable. Poking fun at himself to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

His facial expression turned scrutinizing as Cuddy replaced the half eaten sandwich onto the night stand. He chose not to comment, not wanting pressure her into anything. It was her body. What happens to it should be her decision.

This thought didn't corrupt his plan, however. What he was about to do was a necessary evil. She needed to tell him. She needed to say everything he did not want to hear.

"Cuddy?" He lowered his head, wanting to be as least intimidating as possible. Gaining her attention, he continued. "Cuddy, you need to tell me." He watched her defenses reassemble. Her spine curved into a crouched position. Grey eyes stared at the comforter as her head hung low. Nervous fingers flew to a naked wrist to search for invisible jewelry to fiddle with.

"Please, Cuddy. I promise I won't ask for anything else." His tone was one of negotiation. He didn't want to beg, nor use his puppy dog face to get her cooperating. The lustful need he once had to manipulate her was gone. "Just tell me, and I promise you'll never have to say it again. I'll take you to the Police Station, and I'll talk to them. Cuddy, just talk to me."

Painful, long seconds passed before he witnessed a reaction.

"Okay, House." She solemnly nodded her head in agreement, and crawled over to him. Like a little girl awaiting a bedtime story, she curled herself up onto his lap.

Their new position would bring a feel of uneasiness to most right-minded men. Needless to say, House experienced no such emotion. He found a perverse pleasure in rocking her in his arms. The idea of the women of his fantasies being a child he could protect brought on a certain pride within himself. If this made the drug-addicted doctor a pervert, than so be it. He had been called worse.

He felt her chest rise and fall against his. She was preparing. Preparing to rip herself apart. Controlled, deep breaths appeared to be calming her, but he remained on edge. She was unstable. All night had been a roller coaster of emotions for her. He hoped speaking of the incident would help. If not, it was back to the white board and big tennis ball. He was out of ideas.

"What do you wanna know?" She had mumbled just loud enough for him to hear. Giving him the most loaded question in all of his life.

The truth bursted within him. His need to hold nothing back was about to ruin everything. All her progress would be for nothing. _'I don't wanna know! I don't want to see you being tortured in my sleep. I don't wanna know anything!'_ His lips parted. A tiny gush of breath was all that escaped him.

Everybody lies. Even a heartless doctor who believes in nothing but the truth, lies.

"Everything."

She snuggled up closer to him. Expecting the warmth and comfort to shield her from the inevitable. With another deep breath, she finally spoke.

"Okay..."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_The morning was lovely. It was calm and peaceful, and everything the night wouldn't be. It gifted her with two blissful hours of seeing patients. Actual, living, breathing patients. Not random names printed on a paper she needed to sign. To the Dean of Medicine, clinic duty was heaven. It dragged her out from under mounds of paper work. It ended annoying phone calls from donors. It reminded her exactly why she wanted to become a doctor. Ironically, her 'heaven' would open up the gates to her hell._

"_Excuse me, Doctor?"_

_A man of about six feet sought her attention. He stood beside the waiting area with his back against the wall and arms folded across his broad chest. His pitch black eyes carefully absorbed the clinic's hectic atmosphere, paying exceptional attention to a certain brunette dressed in a lab coat._

"_Yes, sir. How may I help you?" Cuddy approached the man with a friendly smile. She has seen him waiting patently for almost an hour. At first, he seemed rather... peculiar. The way he stood there, and watched everything around him made her ill at ease, but she dismissed it. Compared to the nagging teenager and argumentative business man standing beside him , he seemed decent. This would be the last time she would ever ignore a first impression._

"_I'm sorry to bother you, but I've been waiting here for an hour. Is there any chance I could get looked at sometime soon? _

_His polite tone of voice contradicted the lifestyle represented by his clothing. Dark, baggy jeans worn too low on his hips dragged beneath old, beat-up sneakers. A grey t-shirt suffocated his enormous upper body and outlined the numerous tattoos that painted both of his strong arms. He was dangerous, and he wanted everyone to know it._

"_It's definitely not a bother, and thank you so much for your patience. Everything's been crazy around here this morning. If you just go into exam room one, I'll be with you shortly."_

_The well-mannered beast muttered a 'thank you,' and followed her instructions. He waited no more than a minute before his prey entered the room. Her curves memorizing and scent intoxicating. He smiled._

"_Hi, I'm Dr. Cuddy. It's nice to meet you..."_

"_Louis Cypher." In the history of mankind, there had never been a more appropriate name._

_The doctor nodded her head politely, and scribbled the devil's surname into a chart._

"_The nurse said you didn't have a file here. Is it your first visit to Princeton-Plainsboro?"_

"_Yeah, I'm not from the area. Actually, I'm just here to visit a friend, and get a check-up." He flashed a charming smile. "We're going on a trip tomorrow." He wasn't lying. Experience taught him to stay close to the truth when hunting. His choice of 'food' was bold and intelligent. It gave him a challenge._

_She laughed, "Mexico, huh?"_

"_Yeah, how'd you know?" It was working. The professional, successful women was letting her guard down. She was treating him like a middle class citizen instead of a street thug. All because he smiled and spoke well. She was being as politically correct as society wanted her to be. It excited him to no end._

"_Almost everybody gets checked out before crossing the border." She snapped on medical gloves while he gingerly hopped onto the patient bed._

_Unnecessarily, he removed his shirt. It interested him to see her reaction to his nude torso. Her imperfect nose and curly dark hair made it all the more fun. He couldn't wait till she saw the enormous tattoo imprinted across his chest._

_Cuddy did not disappoint. Her eyes filled with hatred as she in took the sight of his naked upper body. A deep red swastika covered his chest. The mere sight of it had her muscles clenching and emotions flaring. She remained motionless as her soon to be attacker awaited her attention to be redirected from the Nazi tribute to his face. _

_She was unsure if it was her American pride, or up bringing in an old-fashioned, Jewish house hold that left her unsurprised by his choice of tattoo. Louis Cypher appeared to be of Middle Eastern decent. His skin too light to be black, yet too dark to be white. His hard, yet handsome facial structures were more Mediterranean than Latino while his pitch black eyes screamed 'ethnic heritage.' _

"_Something wrong?" His deep voice withdrew her form her thoughts. She watched as a smug smile crept onto his face. Years of dealing with a certain Diagnostician's antics kept her temper at bay. _

"_No," she shook her head. Firmly convincing herself that stabbing the patient with a used needle was both barbaric and unlawful. "Just a lot on my mind today. Sorry about that." Taking a step towards the mongrel, she began the examination._

_Sharp, white teeth snapped together to form a smile that, disturbingly, resembled a dog's snarl. "Aw that's too bad. I hate those kinds of days." _

_The, now, on edge doctor lightly laughed with feigned amusement. Her steady hands showed no sign of uneasiness as she carefully inspected four of his five senses. Looking into his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, she was oblivious to the way his hands grasped the table. Like an inpatient lion waiting for the proper moment to strike. _

_Not here. He wouldn't, couldn't take her here. Too many witnesses, not enough time. She was so beautiful. A body so perfectly sculpted deserved his full attention. The probability of him ever finding another as mouth-watering as her was unlikely. The taste of her would surely be worth the wait._

"_Alright, everything looks good. Let me just listen to your heart before you go." The insignificant muscle that pumped blue blood into his veins couldn't have been beating more calmly. His was too relaxed. Even she felt a bit anxious when having an exam. This man appeared to not have a fear in the world. She was completely oblivious as to why this unsettled her. This wasn't the first time she'd treated a rather odd individual. Louis Cypher was different, however. Never before had Cuddy been so intimidated. _

_The exam ended not a minute too soon for the Dean of Medicine. Her day was schedule to be as stressful as ever. She really didn't need this beast of a man sending her into a erratic state less than an hour before the board needed to meet. As Chief Administrator, entering a room full of conscienceless businessmen with a shiver running up and down her spine was not an option. _

_With a crooked smile and intense stare, the demented patient left the clinic without a last glance at the woman he would be raping in approximately twelve hours._

- - - - - - - -

_Exhaustion. Her body ached with pure exhaustion. From her sore feet to the dull throbbing within her head, she felt nothing but agony. The day had proved to be one form of torment after another._

_A series of nonsensical board and department meetings filled her afternoon. Debates over everything from this year's holiday decoration budget to who would become the new Head of Oncology erupted within every meeting. Not to mention almost all of her subordinates added their own two cents on the hospital's personal black hole. Once again, the Diagnostic's department was one of the meeting's main topics. Apparently, the summer had proven to be quite expensive. House's lack of attention to his work left his team running numerous of unnecessary tests and procedures. Last spring's bus accident was effecting more than just the personal lives of Princeton-Plainsboro's doctors._

_By twilight, she had all but lost her voice. She had counted the hours of which she would finally be able to go home, but the gods were against her. An annual administrators' conference was being held at Princeton University. Dean's from all over the New England area were attending the pointless seminar to discuss 'important' matters. In reality is was a waste of her time, and a pain in her ass. Not to mention, the guests from were supposed to be awarded the closer parking spaces as some form of hospitality. Her entire faculty and staff, including herself, was forced to park their vehicles at the back of the hospital. Well all, but House, anyway. His motorcycle was stationed in the handicapped spot twenty feet from the hospital's main entrance. Bastard._

_He was the reason she was currently dragging her starving body across the deserted, back parking lot at eleven-thirty at night. The seminar had ended dreadfully at nine, but a stack of paperwork held her hostage. Her head Diagnostician had gone and not only ordered a surgery the patient didn't consent to, but also insulted his wife during the process. Granted, the case was solved, but she was left to clean up Sherlock Holmes's mess._

_A deep sigh left her parched throat as she unlocked her car. It was over._

"_Good evening, Doctor Cuddy."_

_The deep voice echoed throughout the soundless garage. Her body jumped as her heart skipped a beat, and the expensive purse she carried fell to the concrete. She turned towards the sudden voice that came from behind her._

_All color left her face. Her already pale skin turned ghostlike as a demon stalked towards her._

_The man from the clinic. The Arabic-Nazi. Louis Cypher. She wouldn't ever be able to forget him. _

"_Don't be afraid." He mocked her with a smug smile and condescending smile._

_Cuddy quickly scanned her surroundings, not answering him. There was clearly no point and trying to be brave. He was already well aware of her state of mind. She was scared. There was no changing that. It was only then did she realized exactly how alone she was. The garage was empty of all inhabitants. Not a soul could be seen or heard throughout the entire structure. Could she out run him? Three inch heels and a pair of spent legs most likely wouldn't get her far. It was worth a shot._

_A moment too late, she took a quick step to the left. He was already there. His muscular chest blocking her vision completely, and a hand wrapped so tightly around her wrist she could feel the circulation being cut off._

_She knew exactly what he wanted. Louis Cypher was watching her underneath lowered eye lids. His expression was one of arousal. She witnessed him slowly lick his lips as he trailed his view of her from head to toe, and then, back up again. Another ripple of fear racked her body. Her skin crawled with an eerie sense of repulsion._

_The time he spent visually violating her seemed like eternity. Her mind screamed for her to do something. Anything. Her body failed to contribute to this plan, however. She was frozen with fright. The powerful Dean of Medicine was nothing more than a scared little girl. The big, bad monster was seconds away from eating her, and she could nothing but stand there. _

_A lazy smile crept onto his face as he finally made eye contact with her._

"_You're gorgeous."_

_Enough with the shock, she needed to move. With every ounce of strength she had, Cuddy ripped her hand from his firm hold. Her efforts were fruitless. The force she used through off her balance, and left her stumbling backwards._

_The brute laughed at her pointless attempt to escape, and prowled after her. She brought her assaulted wrist to her chest in a nurturing manner, and soothed it with the fingers from her other hand. He watched with interest._

_Cuddy carefully backed away from him with cautious steps. She knew he was playing with her. It would be all top easy for him to simply reach out and over power her. Her desire to create as much space between them as possible seemed to amuse him. Taking his time to follow her retreating form. _

_And then it hit her. Actually, she hit it. Her back made contact with her car. In all implications of the cliché, she was in between a rock and a hard place. _

_Louis Cypher approached her with a merry look upon his face. His arms extended to either side of her small body, leaving only an inch between their chests. Large hands rested on the hood of her Mercedes to keep her trapped between it and him. She avoided his eyes as he bent his head. The feel of his breath warming the side of her face created a pathetic whimper that left her lips when he buried his nose into her hair. Cuddy cringed as he sniffed the soft curls._

"_You smell good." He mumbled the statement with approval._

"_Please…" She found her voice. Her throat was dry and sore, but she had managed to speak the six letter word that begged him to reconsider his plan to harm her._

_He ignored her plea, and continued to toy with her. She could feel his smile as he dipped his head to her neck, and pressed his hot tongue to her skin. Her eyes shut tightly against reality. Her mind not willing to accept the fact she was helpless. The feel of his palate gliding up her neck to her ear sent another shudder up her spine._

"_Mmm. You taste good too."_

_Fight or Flight. _

_In half a second's time, Cuddy flung her entire body weight into the beast. Her sudden out burst caught him off guard, and had him taking a step backwards to keep his balance. It was almost enough. She was just out of his reach before his temper flared, and sent him jumping off the deep end. _

_He ran three steps to catch her arm, and violently spin her around. All patience had left him as he sent her body flying to the ground. She cried out in both surprise and pain when her shoulder bumped against her car's door. He stalked towards her in a pacing fashion, and back handed her directly across the jaw. The soft skin of her lip split in two. She tasted her own blood._

"_Keep that up, and you're gonna get a beating." His warning was unheard. Her ears rung with adrenaline pumping through her veins. At his feet, she calculated her next attempt to stop the inevitable. Again, he was ahead of her. His experience in these situations granted him yet another advantage over the female less than twice his size. _

_The animal pounced. There was no other word for it. One moment, he was staring down at her, and the next he was on his knees with her lying beneath him. He flashed his teeth in an excited smile._

_Cuddy punched, kicked, and scratched her attacker with every ounce of strength she had. Her throat stung with a piercing pain as she screamed at the top of her lungs. She fought with all her might, and still lost. _

_His hands roughly grabbed her biceps and pinned them to the concrete floor. Defenseless to his advances, she whimpered and whined as his lips reattached themselves onto her neck. Only this time, he was anything but gentle. His mouth sucked her skin raw while his teeth punctured the tender flesh. The pain was nearly excruciating. He wouldn't stop. Useless phrases such as 'please stop' and 'no, please, no' fell on death ears._

_Louis Cypher sat on is haunches to appreciate his artwork. It was beautiful. She was stronger than the others. Although she begged him for remorse, no tears had left her eyes. Well, yet, at least. _

_His right hand abandoned it's hold on her arm and wrapped itself securely around her throat. She couldn't breathe. Her newly freed hand grabbed onto his in an attempt to receive oxygen. Her nails dung into his olive skin. He laughed._

_He watched with pleasure as the seconds ticked by. Her mind became hazy. The strong grip she maintained on his hand loosened while her vision blurred. A dark slumber threatened to overcome the exhausted brain within her head. He released his hold on her neck a moment before she lost consciousness. The effect leaving her temporary paralyzed. She would be aware of his actions, yet too tired to move._

_The sound of him forcefully pulling her shirt apart watered her eyes. This was happening. She hissed as he groped her breast with painful strength. His back bowed to bring his face to her chest. Sharp teeth scraped her feminine skin as his hand fondled her. She lay there defenseless to his attack while struggling to regulate her breathing. With a flick of his fingers, the right cup of her bra was pulled aside, exposing her nipple. He went mad with arousal. _

_She cried out when he sucked the pink pebble into his mouth. The pain awoke her senses and had her fingers gripping the back of his neck. She tried to pull him off of her, but to no avail. He continued to dominant her force, and have his way with her. _

_Cuddy truly experienced hell, however, when he finished his assault on her chest. His knees drew together, squeezing her midsection. She groaned as the air was once again knocked out of her. A hard length pressed into her stomach, cutting off even more oxygen. It took her only a moment to realized exactly what was the source of this pressure. Her widened eyes met his. They were uncaring, cruel, dead._

_Louis Cypher licked his lips. "You like that?" His voice was low, coated with arousal. His black eyes dilated with exhilaration._

_She furiously shook her head no. The act earned her an open hand strike to the side of her head. He rocked his hips to further coerce his erection onto her well worked abdomen. She gasped to take a breath. His weight was crushing her. Her body was not a minute away from passing out._

_He readjusted himself in a push-up like position. His mass more evenly distributed permitted her a chance to catch her breath. It also allowed him to grind his pelvis against hers. She was trapped under him. There was no fighting her way out of this predicament. _

_Feather soft kisses were being pepper onto her jaw line as he rocked his hips against her. The harsh words he rasped into her ear contradicted the soft act._

"_Beg me to do this. Tell me how much you want this."_

_She turned her face away from lips with a loud sob. He was tormenting her. Taunting her to fight him, then punishing her for doing so. Physically, emotionally, and psychologically he was breaking her down. He was leaving his mark on her. The bruises and hickeys he created would one day fade, but the memory of him was forever. His voice would haunt her._

_Grabbing a handful of her hair, he forced her to look at him._

"_Ask me to fuck you, or I'll take you back to my place and you'll be sucking my dick for the next year and a half."_

_Tears poured from her eyes as she stared into the nothingness of his black orbs. Not an ounce of mercy could be seen within them. He wasn't going to stop. She was his for the taking._

"_Ask me!" He shouted into her face._

_She was being degraded in the worst way imaginable. The last strip of her pride was finally ripped away from her as she begged him to rape her._

"_Please, fuck me."_

_A wicked smile spread across his face. He lifted himself from her, and sat back. She made the awful mistake of falling for his trap, and attempted to sit up. With all of his power, he punched his victim in the face. The result left Cuddy only half conscious, and bleeding from just above her brow. Her upper body was flung back onto the ground with a heavy thud._

"_Now be a good girl, and stay still." She was completely at his mercy. Rainbow colored splotches corrupted her vision. No sound entered her ears. Her body was limp._

_The vicious animal's next actions were unknown to Cuddy. Darkness that threaten to engulf her mind had her fighting to stay awake. She did not feel his hands yank up her skirt, nor was she aware of his fingers peeling off her panties. He insulted her dignity once more by dangling her underwear before her face. _

_Stuffing them into his pocket, he taunted, "I'll be keeping these."_

_She lost consciousness. An enormous fist pounding into her stomach awoke her. She gasped as he repeated the action. The air was again knocked out of her beaten body. His hand roughly cupped the side of her face, directing her line of vision._

"_I want you awake for this." Her brief stay in the wonderful unknown left her oblivious to their current position. _

_Cuddy's skirt rested high on her hips as Louis Cypher cradled himself snuggly between her bare thighs. The baggy jeans he wore were undone and pulled down past his genitals. The content numbness that protected her body ended the moment he forced himself into her. She screamed at the top of her lungs. The violent cry echoed throughout the empty garage. No one heard her._

_It was then that a final wave of energy washed over her. She writhed against him with all her might. Again, she was unsuccessful. She sobbed pointlessly while he continued his assault. With her arms pinned to the ground, she could do nothing but turn her face away in disgust. _

_He was grunting like an animal. The sensations racking his body with such a force that he was uncontrollably shaking. She was so tight, he almost couldn't stand it. Compared to all the other women he had taken, she was the most delicious. Her body contracted beneath him in an attempt to stop the intrusion. It created an even more pleasurable experience for him. He rode her hard and fast until climax. The last thing Cuddy felt before passing out was him collapsing onto her._

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - _

House held her firmly against his chest. His jaw clenched so tight, the grinding of teeth could be heard. Never again did he ever wish to hear this incident be spoken of. Nothing like this was to ever happen again. Cuddy was no longer allowed to leave his sight. She was going to remain in his arms until the end of time.

"I woke up about a half hour after it happened. He was long gone so I crawled over to my purse, and found my cell. You were the only one I could think of to call."

Her voice was soft and calm. Explaining what happened created a sort of 'out of body' experience for her. It was traumatic and difficult to think of, but in the security of House's presence, she felt free to discuss it. She was safe here.

"Thank you for telling me, Cuddy. Everything's alright now. It's over."

His eyes were shut as he felt her head nod in agreement. Her non-bruised cheek lay on top of his shoulder. She had not left her position on his lap throughout the entire story. It allowed her to feel his every emotion. With each harsh detail of her attack, she felt his arms tighten around her. He would subconsciously pull her closer to him every time she began to tear up. Her pain was his pain.


	8. eight

**So do you guys remember when i said that this chapter would be the last installment of The Darkest Night? Yeah, i definitly lied lol. Honestly, so many of you expressed your disliking of me terminating this fic through comments and private messages that i decided there was absolutely now way i could end it with chapter eight.**

**Also, i figured i'd give everyone the heads up in regards to my new little 'gimmick.' All of my fics are directly inspired by certain songs, therefore i decided to share these songs with you guys. :) At the begining and end of all my fics there will by lyrics to the story's theme.. check em out! (refer to chapter one to see this fic's song.)**

* * *

Eternity was a concept he couldn't comprehend. The idea of time being nonexistent was ludicrous. As an Atheist, he believed people, moments, events happened, and then they ended. As a realist, he knew little could be done to prevent these occurrences. Life had always supported his theories.

He knew the universe functioned without mercy. He knew there truly was no reason or justice to how it worked. However, it did 'happen.' Time never stopped. It kept moving forward until the day that it didn't. Of this, he was certain.

Until tonight;

Tonight, the earth stopped turning. Time stood still. Everything was in darkness. Only he, Gregory House, and she, Lisa Cuddy, existed. Nothing else in the world was going on; just them and their beating hearts. It was all that was left.

A small nightlight illuminated the bathroom, and sent tiny yellow rays into the bedroom. Strips of dim light revealed the two damaged individuals lying on the bed, linked together by a catastrophe.

House rested on his back, above the comforter, with his hands behind his head. His eyes were awake and alert in contradiction to his relaxed posture. He was waiting. Wilson had promised a phone call, but was yet to contact him. He had faith in his best friend, but not in Cuddy's luck. The woman had a way of getting caught in rainstorms. The Oncologist's delay to reach him was not a good sign. Had he found something? Was there something wrong with her?

The thought of Cuddy being even more hurt from this incident made him sick. She had gone through enough. For her to go through even more was something he couldn't handle. He knew his strengths and he knew his weaknesses. Watching his boss deteriorate was something he couldn't bear to see.

He had to solve this. This twisted puzzle of morals, vengeance, and redemption had to end. It would be complicated and difficult, but his resolution was to keep her _here_.

Cuddy slept curled up beside him. Her body lay beneath the covers with her head resting high on House's chest. Her dark curls tickled his neck and chin while her slightly ajar mouth exhaled warm breath onto his shirt. She purred quietly. The noise created from her throat was utterly adorable. Unlike his obnoxious snoring, she sounded like a content kitten. Had he not been so preoccupied in his own thoughts, Cuddy's hummed lullaby would've, gracefully, put House to sleep.

She seemed to be sleeping well. Exhaustion had gifted her with a deep and dreamless slumber. The nightmares would most likely come at a later time, tomorrow night perhaps. Eventually, the memory of her raping would become a ghost of her past. Until then, it would haunt her every move. At least now she was alright. She was lost in a peaceful world far away from all of her troubles.

A thought crossed his mind; Cuddy couldn't do this alone. This was probably the one thing the first female Dean of Medicine couldn't handle by herself. She needed someone. She needed someone to help her through this. He was the only one she trusted. The reason was unknown to him. He had never done anything but lie to her, ridicule her, _hurt her_. Now, he couldn't imagine ever leaving her side. He would remain here, bedside her, forever.

A shuddering vibration disrupted his thoughts. This was it.

Carefully, he withdrew himself from the warmth of Cuddy's body. She murmured something incoherent as he adjusted the covers and swept hair from her closed eyes. It was a bittersweet moment for him. They were finally sharing the same bed, though the circumstance was entirely different than what he had imagined. He wanted nothing but to return to the wonderful feeling of having her in his arms. Not touching her was hard enough. Exiting the room for a phone call seemed unbearable.

Eventually, House was able to drag his limping body away from Cuddy's bedside, and into the hallway. To anyone else, the house's lack of light would bring forth a feeling of dread. The drug addict embraced it. He hated the harsh light of day. Everything, everyone was so exposed. Nighttime allowed things to go unnoticed. No one could be judged in the darkness. No scars could be seen. It was during the night when he was left to, peacefully, suffer alone. _'Just like Cuddy.'_

He physically shivered at the image of Cuddy scared and abandoned in the parking garage. Maybe the night wasn't as nurturing as it seemed.

"Hello?" He answered his cell phone with frantic fingers. He'd rather listen to Cuddy's fate than question his own lifelong assumptions.

"It's all over, House." James Wilsons sounded tired, yet happy. _'Happy? What the hell does he have to be happy about?' _The man had spent the last four and half months mourning the death of the love of his life, and earlier today, one of his closest friends was raped. His cheery voice confused House to no end.

"Spare me the riddles, Wilson. What's going on?"

A low chuckle traveled from the cell phone to his ear drum. God, this man was annoying.

"I mean, it's over. Everything is going to be okay. Cuddy's fine. She's not pregnant nor does she have any STDs."

House hung his head with a deep sigh. Life had finally given her a break. For her to have gotten something would've been the last straw. He knew this. She couldn't cope with having an STD. Obsessive-compulsive Cuddy wouldn't have been able to live with herself. Caring-selfless Cuddy wouldn't ever risk spreading her condition. Not that he could picture her ever enjoying the idea of sex again. He figured he'd be the only one allowed to even touch her for quite some time. Pride bloomed within him.

Pregnancy; now that would've been a royal slap in the face to the woman lying in the other room. She'd keep it; he knew that much. However, the inner turmoil to making that decision would eat her alive. No doubt. Not to mention he'd never be able to look at the kid. Seeing Cuddy with an olive-skinned, brown eyed baby just didn't suit him. He had always pictured a pale, lanky rug rat running around in a lacrosse jersey with dark curly hair and piercing blue eyes. That was the only child he wanted anywhere near _his _Lisa.

"Hello? House, you there?" He wasn't sure how long he had spaced out. Relief had flooded his system and clogged his ears.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"I said they got him."

And with that sentence, House's heart stopped.

"WHAT?" He screamed. The word was shouted out of his mouth before it could even be registered by his brain. Confusion wracked his senses and knocked him out. The unexpected news put him into a state of complete shock. House was only barely able to hear the sound of a frightful gasp and shuffling of sheets.

"Whoa. No reason to yell in my ear. What's the matter?" _'Again, with the nagging.'_ He supposed it was an Oncologist thing.

"House?" A lovely, feminine sound, echoed with fear, came from the bedroom.

And just like that, the man no better than God's most insignificant creation succumbed to the need of sight. His survival instincts pushed him to seek out the '_light.'_ No matter how powerfully seductive the darkness could be, it was no match for the gravitational pull that was his angel.

"Wilson, don't hang up, gimme a minute." He rushed his reply as he stumbled back to Cuddy.

"What's going on--?"

"Everything's fine." With that he tossed his open cell phone onto the nightstand and sat next to his boss.

She had sat up with wide, fearful eyes. The room's soft lighting made her appear even more vulnerable than earlier. Her breathing was slightly erratic as she sought out answers from her guardian. House immediately pulled her into his chest, and, without thinking, pressed his lips to the crown of her head. The action went unnoticed by Cuddy. She was paralyzed with confusion.

"Is everything okay?" She spoke hesitantly as he released her from his hold. His hands rubbed up and down her arms in a comforting manner as they made eye contact.

"Yeah, everything's fine. I'm sorry I scared you. I was on the phone with Wilson."

Her eyes widened. "Oh."

The rosy color her cheeks had taken while sleeping faded away. She became as pale as the moonlight glowing through the window. He smiled a genuinely happy smile.

"Cuddy, you're okay. Wilson ran all the tests, and you're absolutely fine." He paused for a moment and allowed her a chance to calm herself. Relieved, she sighed contently. "You're perfect." The sides of her mouth curved upward in a tiny smile.

"House, get back on the phone! What the hell is going on over there?" The two doctors laughed dryly as Wilson's frantic voiced screeched out of House's cell phone.

This was one of the reasons Cuddy was happy she had called the Diagnostician and not the three-time divorced knight in shining armor. Despite the fact she would always be closer to House than Wilson; things would've worked out differently had it been him to rescue her. The man tended to panic when these disasters occurred. She'd never forget his incapability to pull himself together while Amber was House's patient. He had all the right intentions, but was useless under pressure.

"You'd better pick up before he has an aneurism." Her sense of humor was still intact. It made his smile widen as he spoke into the device.

"Keep your panties on. I'm here. Now, tell me what's going on?"

Wilson then proceeded to speak a mile a minute. "After I ran all the tests I called the Princeton Police Department. I know you wanted to go down there in the morning, but I thought I should at least give them a heads up right away. Turns out they just arrested some guy for breaking and entering. He was on parole and planned on skipping the country tomorrow. Apparently, he's been going on a spree all night as his last hurrah in the States. The police officer I spoke to on the phone told me that they had suspected he had raped a woman tonight because he's got fingernail scratches all over his neck. He told me there's a good chance he's our guy. His name's Louis Cypher, and from what they know so far, he's an intelligent asshole with a serious record. The cop said he fits the profile for a rapist seeking 'challenging obstacles.' They also found a pair of woman's panties in his pocket--"

"Holy shit," House interrupted. He was unsure if what he was feeling was relief or disappointment. The animal was caged, but he would no longer be able to hunt it. "Wilson, it's him. Cuddy already told me everything that happened. Louis Cypher was her patient in the clinic, and he's the one that raped her."

The Dean of Medicine sat submissively with her hand in House's. Her face wore a pained expression. To think of _him _was excruciating. Seeking comfort, she moved closer to her employee. He tucked her beneath his free arm and leaned her head under his chin. She buried her face into his chest. No tears left her eyes. There were no more left to shed.

"The police officer said the both of you should go down to the station first thing in the morning. Between the panties', DNA testing, and Cuddy identifying him, there's no way he's gonna get away with this. It's over, House." The smile on Wilson's face could be heard over the phone.

House shut his eyes with a sigh. He hung his down for Cuddy to nuzzle her nose into his stubble covered cheek. His fingers massaged the back of her neck while his other hand reluctantly held the cell phone to his ear. This was a spontaneous conclusion to the events of this nightmare.

"Thanks, Wilson. I'll give you a call in the morning. You can come to the station with us if you like--"

"Wait! Could you put Cuddy on the phone; if she doesn't mind? Please?" His best friend was asking for too much. After being informed that he would not be able to avenge the woman cuddling against him, personally, House's temper was looking for an excuse to snap.

"I can talk to him." Being so close to him, Cuddy had been able to hear Wilson's request to speak to her. She looked up at House will big, hopeful eyes. "I'm okay, House. Honestly."

House heaved an aggravated breath. He didn't want her talking to anyone. It was possessive and ignorant, but he refused to take any chances of her being hurt again. The idea of Wilson's rationalizing all of this to her so soon didn't suit him. However, he could not deny her. With him, she had universal freedom. He'd give her anything she wanted.

Pain saved him. His destructive desires to intercept his colleagues' conversation were interrupted by the empty thigh of his right leg. The crippled limb was usually the root of all his evil. Now, it was a blessing. Handing his phone to Cuddy, he shifted away from her to swallow his drug of choice. Not once did he meet Cuddy's sadden gaze.

"Hi, Wilson." She was testing her limits. Her friend wouldn't ever hurt her, yet his presence earlier had been intimidating. A conversation over the phone was more comfortable.

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

"I'm…" Cuddy hesitated. How the hell was she supposed to answer that? She looked to her savior for guidance, but found him preoccupied with his injury, "better." Her reply was only slightly true.

"That's good. It's nice to hear you talking. I took care of everything, Cuddy. You just have to stay strong, and, eventually, this'll all be over."

The white knight's motivational speech was lovely. It reminded her of a time before _this; _a time before an autumn raping, a mournful summer, and a spring death. This was her compassionate friend, James Wilson, at his best.

"I know. Thanks, Wilson."

"And Cuddy…"

"Yes?" Her face scrunched in confusion. She had expected that to be the conclusion of their interaction. That is, for now.

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm sorry. I've been very distant lately and cold to both you and House."

Had the circumstance been less dramatic, she would've reacted with a chuckle and roll of her eyes. It was typical of Wilson to feel guilty over something non-related to him. It was what the two of them had in common.

"It's okay." She offered him a smile he couldn't see. "You--"

"I love you."

Her eyes shot open with bewilderment. That had been a rather shocking interruption. She felt House's attention being refocused on her as she fidgeted nervously.

"I love you and I love House. You guys are all I got, and I'd do anything for the both of you. I'm so sorry for everything I've done lately. We're a family, and I shouldn't have pushed either of you away."

Emotion pricked her eyes and sent fresh tears streaming down her face. The Oncologist had just picked up her broken heart and stitched it back together. The man always did have a way with words.

House was back at her side before the first sob could escape her throat. He reached to take the phone, but was denied. Cuddy held the device more firmly, and spoke.

"Thank you, Wilson. We love you too." She ignored the way House's ears perked up, and listened to the second person to gain her trust.

"Alright then. I'll let you go, but tell House I'll be stopping by tomorrow to make you breakfast after we go to the Station."

Cuddy giggled happily into the cell phone, and snuggled into House's open arms. "Okay, Wilson. I'll be looking forward to it." A genuine smile spread across her face as Wilson bid his fare well, and promised to always been there for her. She felt warmth filling her for the first time that evening.

The Diagnostician holding her drew designs on her free hand's palm. The feeling of him surrounding her every sense made the moment complete bliss. Her bedroom had the aura of a true home. She didn't feel lonely as she usually did. Having Wilson and House was enough. Cuddy no longer needed everything she longed for. The picture perfect family vision she had dreamed of was irrelevant. The experience that was this night taught her the true importance of life. She already had everything she needed.

"Wilson's coming over tomorrow." She curled her body further against House's, and looked up into his eyes. Her bashful grin was one of the cutest things he'd ever seen.

"That's good." House offered her an admiring beam. His white, perfect teeth were caught by the moonlight as he brought his mouth to her forehead.

The action tested her faith in his intentions. When she didn't scamper away in fear, he knew she was going to be alright. As his puckered lips grazed her skin he realized that this was his reward. Her trust was the compensation of his efforts. She was allowing him to protect her, to care for her. She was allowing him to shield her from the world, and keep her in his arms. For this, he would do anything.

Her head grew heavy on his chest as the comfortable position left sleep luring her. The peaceful atmosphere had all of her troubles forgotten. With him, everything was safe. Not a thing in the world could harm her. All unworried dreams could not be disturbed as he watched over her. A big, soothing hand massaged her sore back, and eased her further into the bed. He wrapped her into the bed's warmth, and, by her request, joined her beneath the covers.

A bicep became her most favorite pillow as House placed his forehead against hers, breathing life into her. Tired eyes fluttered open to see electric blue ones watching her so intensely; she may have cried had she any strength left. Delicate fingers fisted the thin fabric of his shirt's collar, keeping him there.

"Stay with me?" A millimeter of additional space between them and he wouldn't of have been able to hear her.

Time vanished with her request for a companion. It was a plea to never be left alone again, in this life, or in the next. It was a proposal to remain together, forever.

"Always."

With this promise, they fell asleep.


	9. nine

**I don't think any of you realize just how much stress you all put on me by begging for me to continue this :) After two months of fighting with myself.. this is what i came up with. I hope you all enjoy, and the next chapter will not take as long to be posted. Anyways, reviews are love and i love you all!!**

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The morning sun bathed tender flesh and warmed a wounded soul. It sent an afterglow full of chastity onto an innocent being. The glorious light gave sight and joy to a woman lying contently beside her life's only reason.

She knew nothing but _him_.

The most beautiful creature in the world slept, basking in the sun. His unconscious expression was not peaceful, but content. He lay on his stomach, face scrunched into a pillow, and the pout of his lips looking childish and adorable. His brow was wrinkled as though he were deep in thought. Even in sleep, his brain was assembling, dissecting, and diagnosing in the fascinating way it did. A powerful, protective hand rested between the woman's shoulder blades, holding her to him.

Cuddy watched him without worry or fear. The events of the previous evening seemed far away and unreal with this day's new beginning. She dismissed the soreness of her body due to the happiness of waking up with a companion. Having been lonely for so many years, the doctor resting beside her was a welcomed guest in her bed. She couldn't see the dried blood, nor the bruises on her face and body. She could only feel the giddiness bubbling up inside her.

She was anticipating the moment House awoke from his slumber. He was the purpose of her entire existence. Cuddy wanted nothing but to curl up against him, and hear his voice. The memory of his arms around her was embedded so deeply within her head; she wouldn't ever be able to forget it. A longing need to once again feel him surrounding her every sense, captivated her.

She waited patiently, however. The man needed his rest, and she was fully prepared to give him whatever he wanted. He deserved nothing less.

Gregory House was her savior and her protector. He was her subordinate and her superior. He was her husband and her father. He was everything she needed.

The fluttering of House's eyelids interrupted her thoughts, and sent a lazy smile to her face. The hand warming her upper back tightened its grip as he blinked away the blackness. She watched as the sunlight reflected off of his crystal blue eyes and danced liked diamonds across the room.

He felt so warm and peaceful, he fought to remain asleep. For the first time in quite a while, he had managed to sleep the majority of the night. Not once did he leave the bed's comfort to pace back and forth or down a couple of Vicodin. Even after waking, the insomniac did not panic and jolt up from his restful position. He wasn't frightened by the lack of pain in his leg or absence of a hangover. He was currently holding onto his most precious possession.

He was immediately aware of the happy aura surrounding her, but was not quick to trust it. Whether or not her mood swings had come to an end still needed to be determined. Last night she had looked to him for everything. He was unsure of any changes.

"Hey." His voice, husked with sleep, was even more masculine and powerful than usual. Despite the cautious greeting, he was still a figure of a higher power within her world.

"Hi." Cuddy's eyes sparkled with enjoyment as she was finally able to speak to him. Her face turned a light shade of pink as a dopey smile spread across her embarrassed face. She turned her head further into the bed's pillows as she watched him observe her.

The woman's actions were of absolute, childish innocence. In every sense of the phrase, she was 'as cute as a button.' However, the sight still pained House to see. This was not Cuddy.

Yes, his Dean of Medicine was insecure, but never did she let this fact be known. It was only him who could see the true feelings that lay beneath her perfect posture and pronounced strut. Cuddy did not blush. Her pride wouldn't allow it. She didn't hide her face and giggle.

It simply wasn't_ her._

She was ignoring her pain. Much like he does, she was refusing to deal with her hurt and focusing on anything but herself. His puzzles were his distraction, he was hers.

Clearing his throat, abruptly, the Diagnostician lost his train of thought. Cuddy was curiously picking the calluses of his right hand. His internal white board was erased with the feel of her small fingers caressing the rough skin created by his cane. She was too beautiful to analyze.

"How are you feeling?"

Her eyes lifted to meet his, with the same lazy, content smile he woke up to, complimenting their beauty. She was positively beaming. Having his company was making this moment one of the greatest moments of her life. His presence numbed all of her senses in a pleasurable high.

"I'm okay." She shifted her body to close the short distance between them. His open arms wrapped around her with so much welcome, her eyes nearly watered. She was home.

"That's good." House buried his nose into her hair as she curled herself around his body like a vine. Her cheerful mood was disturbing, but he considered it better than her shocked, frightened state of the night before. His selfish nature pushed aside her condition, and enabled him to relish in the feeling of her beside him. For once, he had woken up to more than an empty apartment and a scorching pain. In this instance, he was neither alone nor in agony. This was as close to heaven as he'd ever be.

A married couple couldn't have had a more intimate moment. The silence wasn't in the least bit awkward. Both man and woman were fully content to simply lie in each other's arm for the remainder of the day. Everything was perfect. Their hands held all they needed in life. Of course, even utopia couldn't stop the mind of Dr. Gregory House.

"Do you remember what we have to do today?" He spoke very softly. She didn't appear to be frightened but he was still unsure of her state of mind.

A small shake of her head answered him. The reminder of what lay ahead dampened her morning bliss only slightly. He had said _we_. Her savior did not plan to leave her anytime soon.

"I'm…" She hesitated to express herself. The feelings in which she wished to share with him were in such a twisted knot, she was unsure of how to detangle them. She watched her fingers explore his hand while he waited patiently. Her internal conflict was of questioning. She didn't understand what was happening to her.

Interrupting her mental dispute, House whispered, "I know. It's okay." He brought his face down to caress her cheek. A faint smile spread across his closed lips. '_Okay I'm pushing it now.' _He was aware of how selfish he was being; taking advantage of such a tragic situation. He couldn't help, but act as though nothing had happened the night before. He was caught up in the feeling of her beside him. She was senseless as to what he was doing, and that was wrong. She was yet to comprehend his actions.

He understood that his presence was only temporary. He would no longer be needed once she was strong enough. Their current situation would eventually come to an end. Only presently, he was taking advantage of her warm body and soul. Her weakness was giving him pleasure. '_I'm pathetic.' _The smile he wore disappeared.

It was then that a dreadful sound rang throughout the room. It seemed to House, the noise would always bring forth a feeling of anxiety. He would never ignore the dreadful siren again. So much change could occur due to a telephone. Cuddy wasn't the only one scarred by the previous night's events.

Reaching back to secure the devise in his hand, House rolled his eyes at the sight of Wilson's name on the caller I.D. The man had a gift for ruining his precious moments with Cuddy. He was hell bent on pushing the two together, yet always seemed in the way whenever they chose to take a step forward. It was the universe's twisted way of torturing the romantic Oncologist. An irritated grunt was the greeting House sent over the phone.

"I know it's a little early, but I'm here." The obnoxious, genuine smile could be heard over the phone. House rolled his eyes.

"Why? You said -"

"I know, but I figured it'd be better for her to get some energy before she goes down to the station. I didn't want her to get upset and then not eat afterwards. She has to eat, House." Wow, not even a full day of their friendship being improved, and he was already bossing the drug addict around. Why was it that they were friends? Oh yes, Wilson was House's conscience!

"I know! God, I'm not completely useless. I am aware of the necessities of life, Dr. Wilson." He glanced at the woman nuzzling her nose into his collarbone. She was his necessity.

"Whatever you say, Dr. House. Now, come open the door." The Oncologist was becoming impatient.

"I'm not going anywhere, use _my_ key hidden under the flower pot." He ignored the feel of Cuddy's mouth forming a smile against his shoulder. In her eyes, everything was his.

"What? House! I'm carrying grocery-"

An exasperated Wilson was the last thing House heard before disconnecting the line. A dry chuckle left his throat. The return of Watson came at Irene's darkest hour. It seemed as though Sherlock was destined to be miserable. Delicately cupping her cheek with his hand, the sentence he prepared to say died on his lips as his eyes met hers. Never before had anyone looked at him so lovingly. The unique mixture of colors of her eyes were filled with so much emotion, he became speechless. It was inevitable for him to fight the urge of becoming attached. He was already past the point of no return.

"I'm gonna go let Wilson in. Be right back." She smiled when he stroked his thumb one more time over her cheek before leaving the bed. All was well so long as he returned.

Cuddy painfully, shifted herself into a sitting position. His absence reminded her wounded body of its sore muscles and stitched gash. She remembered every little gory detail of what happened to her. She simply chose to ignore it. '_What's done is done._' The process of rehabilitation would be difficult, but somewhere, deep within her, the old, independent Cuddy was screaming for her to keeping moving forward. Defeat was unacceptable.

She listened to faint mumbling at the entrance of her house. The shuffling of grocery bags could be heard, along with House's cane. The distant sound of a prescription bottle rattling also echoed from down the hall. She loved the noises. They were evidence of someone else within her home. The loner Endocrinologist no longer wanted to be alone.

However, it wasn't long before she was cringing at the presence of her guests. Pots and pans were crashing around her kitchen. Between House and Wilson, God help her with the mess that was sure to be left after breakfast. She snorted at the thought, and felt a girlish smile light up her face at the sight of House limping into the bedroom, cane and blue backpack in hand.

She reached her hands out to grab onto his shirt as he tossed both objects onto the bed. He sat, allowing Cuddy to sit up on her knees, and playfully, wrap her arms around his neck. He smiled at her welcome, and leaned back into her embrace. His fingers gently grabbed hold of the ebony curls at the back of her head, and pressed her cheek against his. The feel of her skin against his was intoxicating. Both he and she felt the electricity souring between. It was meant to be.

"Wilson brought you some stuff?" She mumbled her words into his shoulder.

"Mhm." House's eyes snapped open as he heard the satisfied moan his throat created. What the hell was wrong with him? The woman had been raped less than twelve hours ago, and here he was divulging in her weakness. Her soft lips had massaged the material of his shirt, and sent a wonderful sensation surging throughout his body. She didn't realize what she was doing to him. House cleared his throat and thanked whoever was looking out for him; she hadn't noticed his dilemma.

"I'm gonna go take a shower, if that's okay with you." She giggled at his seeking of permission. There wasn't anything he couldn't do. Shaking her head with an approval, Cuddy released him from her arms, and sat back against her pillow.

"Wilson's starting breakfast. You could wait with him while I shower," he paused to focus his serious stare on her eyes, "if you're ready."

She didn't miss the hopeful sound of his voice. She wasn't ready. She didn't want to walk down her hallway, alone, and greet her Head of Oncology. She wanted to wait patiently for his return. However, he wanted the opposite, and she would make him proud.

"Yeah, sure." Still completely oblivious to her inner conflict, House smiled at her improvement.

"Okay." He stood and slung his backpack over his shoulder before bending down and placing a chaste kiss to the side of her head. "I'll only be a few minutes."

Her eyes followed his uneven gate until he disappeared behind the bathroom door. She gulped down her anxiety, and took a deep breath. He would return shortly, everything was fine.

Cuddy gently pressed her feet to the floor, and stood cautiously. Everything felt duel and heavy with House's absence. Her first step corresponded with the sound of the shower being turned on. Even away from her, he was guiding her.

She walked the silent distance of the hallway hesitantly. The entry of her kitchen was within her reach when she paused her progress. Delightful sounds and smells came from the other room. There was nothing to fear. Her best friend was here to wait hand and foot on her. He was here to support and help her. James Wilson would never hurt anyone, especially her. The logical mind within her head was repeating these facts, but, her stomach remained constricted in a nervous knot. '_Come on Lisa, pull yourself together!' _Again, Administrator Cuddy was yelling, begging to be released.

Two small steps was all it took for her to be occupying the same room as her most trusted employee. He faced away from her, flipping a pancake and scrambling some eggs, while the scent of coffee filled the room. Had there not been another man in her shower, she may have fallen in love with Wilson right then and there. Perfect was the only word she could think of to describe the morning.

He was on complete auto-pilot. He didn't hear Cuddy's pedder-patter footsteps, nor the deep breath she took before greeting him. So much was on his mind. He'd been distant and cruel the past few months. He acted in ways he always told his mourning patients to avoid at all costs. He blamed others for life's inevitable truths. He'd abandoned his friend, and disappointed his boss. Now, he had to make things right.

"Good Morning, Wilson."

Wilson nearly died. The doctor turned around with so much force, he saw Cuddy take a step backwards at his sudden outburst. With a hand over his heart, he laughed, "My God, you scared me."

She stood like a ghost in front of him. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was parted. She hadn't expected him to act so off guard. She didn't see why any human being would. After last night, she knew she would always be on high alert.

" I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

"It's okay," he continued to chuckle, a nervous habit of his. "I spaced out. How are you?" His eyes tore themselves away from her battered skin to watch the way her grey orbs refused to meet his. It was sad to see her so conflicted. He could tell by the urgency in her voice, she was struggling to speak. He had never considered himself intimidating, but she was, clearly, uncomfortable.

"I'm alright," she offered a crooked smile."Thank you for all of this. It smells lovely."

Wilson sent her his Prince Charming smile, and watched her tensions ease. "Don't mention it. Everything should be done in a few minutes. Would you like some coffee?"

Finally, she raised her line of vision to see his handsome face. "Please," was her only response.

Her answer suited him just fine. He quickly got to work in preparing the beverage. Cuddy needed time. He understood that. After all he'd been through; no one understood the process of healing more than he did.

She didn't move. Her brain ordered her body to act casually. She wanted to sit down, and catch up with her friend, but was unable to. Instead, she stood frozen in the middle of the kitchen, and watched his every move. The man was harmless, of that House, her world, was absolutely positive. And yet she held her breath in preparation for his betrayal. A wolf in sheep's clothing was the most dangerous predator.

Wilson noticed her dilemma as he finished stirring her drink. Pity-filled eyes caressed her submissive features. He slowed all of his movements to appear less daunting. Placing her coffee mug onto the countertop, he pulled out a stool. A pleading stare was his only invitation. Words were useless. Nothing he could say would gain her trust. The sincerity in his gaze and honest actions were all that could rekindle their friendship.

Cuddy accepted his offer, and allowed him to push in the seat once she had sat down. Minoring in psychology became useful in situations like this for Wilson. He had the knowledge of remaining by her side rather than facing her. He wanted her to realize that he was her ally and not her enemy.

"Listen, Cuddy. I know after last night you really can't find any reason to confine in me, but I would never-"

"I know." She cringed at the way she cut him off. She hadn't meant to.

Wilson smiled. Cuddy wasn't ever rude, but she did tend to stop his rambling speeches when he tried to comfort her. His boss was hidden in there somewhere.

"I'm sorry. I just-"

"It's okay," he took her left hand in both of his. The Dean of Medicine watched the action curiously. "I'm your friend, Lisa. I know you're going to need some time, and that's completely fine. I'll be here when you're ready."

Cuddy couldn't stop the smile from forming on her face. She gently squeezed his hands, and glanced up into his boyish features. "Thanks, Wilson."

He nodded with a smirk, and returned to preparing their food. He felt confident in the way he handled their first encounter after… he shook the memory away. Neither one of them spoke again until House returned from his shower.

"Good morning Jimmy! It's always nice to see you demonstrating those house wife talents of yours."

"Shut up, House, and set the table." The Oncologist rolled his eyes at House's antiques. They hadn't spoken in months, and, without an apology, his crippled buddy was already acting like his girlfriend wasn't dead.

"Oh, my favorite!" House had a handful of bacon before Wilson could even verbally protest.

"Would you stop?" Pushing the genius away, Wilson gave up on receiving a helping hand. House was House. Apparently, Cuddy found their interaction amusing because she was giggling quietly. He noticed, however, that her eyes never left House.

Like a baby watching her parent from a high chair, Cuddy followed his every movement. Wilson felt a small smile tug at his lips. At least she had someone.

It wasn't a minute later until they we all sitting and eating happily. It was nice to have the opportunity to just be themselves, no matter how terrible the cause was. For the first time since Amber's death, the three of them were acting normally. House and Wilson bantered playfully while Cuddy remained somewhat quiet. She enjoyed watching them interact. It was amusing. The trio's conversations were light hearted; each of them not wanting to upset one of the other's recent troubles. It came to no surprise that as time passed; Cuddy was the first to withdraw herself from the content state. She knew the inevitable was coming. Nothing could stop what she was going to have to do. There was nothing that could allow her to be absent in their journey to the Police Station.

House and Wilson's eyes met for a mere moment after Cuddy excused herself from the table. Their shared look was an instant, silent conversation. How the hell were they going to fix this? Each of them was mentally preparing themselves for what was to come.

Quite, easy chatter was what filled the room. They knew she could hear every word they spoke. She needed to be taken care of. She needed to feel secure and protected. Hearing their insecurities would not have done her any good. Both doctors needed to remain calm and assertive. Cuddy was depending on it.

Minutes passed without any sign of her. Wilson was oblivious to the problem that was arising. He had taken his boss out to dinner quite a few times; waiting was always part of the plan. She was a woman after all. House, on the other hand, was becoming more and more nervous by the second. He wished to be with her at all times. The only reason he had allowed himself to remain at the table was because of the fact she was changing. Now, he was regretting the decision.

"I'm gonna go check on her." He cut Wilson off mid sentence.

"House…" The Oncologist audibly exhaled. He didn't want his pushy friend overwhelming the most important woman in both of their lives. "She's getting ready. Give her some time."

House looked Wilson dead in the eyes as he pondered his options. The decision was made quickly. His own selfish reasons persuaded his judgment, and sent him limping down the hall. The distance between them was too great. He needed to be with her.

Knocking softly on the half open bedroom door, he called to her, "Cuddy?"

When he didn't receive an answer, panic rushed through his system, and made him surge through the doorway.

Lisa Cuddy stood facing a full length mirror. Her body wore nothing but a bra and panties. She ignored House's request to enter the room, and was unmoved by his overreaction. Her eyes were transfixed on the glass before her. She couldn't even recognize herself. Too much of her dignity has been stripped away. The mirror's reflection was evidence of her failure. Bruises and cuts covered her body for everyone to see.

Her employee came up behind her, watching her frozen appearance through the mirror. He stood so closely behind her, she could feel the warmth radiating off of him. Her eyes never left her face as his hands gently cupped the delicate curves of her hips. Moisture clung to the brim of her eyes at the gesture.

House lowered his head at the sight of her unshed tears. Thousands of compliments rested on his lips. He wanted to tell her how strong she was. He wanted her to understand her attacker's advantage, and realize that she couldn't have done anything to stop him. He wanted her to recognize her beauty. None of these things were said. His mouth simply hovered above her ear before pressing his lips to the only undamaged part of her body. The act wasn't a kiss, just an act of comfort. It was all he could offer.

Cuddy took a deep breath, and turned around. Her eyes thanked his silent demeanor as she moved to read for a few items of clothing she had previously thrown onto the bed. Her sore muscles made the task incredibly difficult until House helped to dress her. He was careful to never touch inappropriately while making sure she didn't ever strain herself.

He took great care in keeping his eyes on her face. Guilt washed over him as memories of a rough fantasy filled his mind. How could he have ever thought of handling her in a way less gently than this? She held onto his broad shoulders when he kneeled to assist her in putting on her jeans, even going as far as putting on her socks and tying her sneakers.

House stood, painfully, and pulled Cuddy into a loose hug. "You're going to be alright."

The corners of her mouth twitched as a form of a smile. She nodded her head in agreement, and quietly thanked him for his reassurance. He had already seen her in all of her stripped glory. She couldn't be embarrassed; too much confliction clouded her mind.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of." As usual, he knew exactly what was on her mind. She stared helplessly at his chest while he cupped her face with his hands. She was grateful that he didn't force her to meet his gaze. She couldn't handle seeing the electricity in his powerful orbs. House simply whispered to her lowered face, "You know that right?"

The diagnostician heard her swallowed the lump in her throat before, carefully, stepping out of his grasp. "I'm gonna go freshen up in the bathroom. Be right back."

He knew that was her way of asking him for some space. She felt weak, being taken care of by him. He was sure of it. Cuddy had never like being babied. She was too proud to accept help from anyone. Realizing that things had changed and she did need to be helped. She needed _him. _It was a fact that she was going to have to come to terms with, and he was going to have to control the pride that swelled within him every time he thought of it.

House followed her, despite her want of space. Her condition, obviously, did not grant her that freedom quite yet. His only free is that she may hurt herself. He couldn't let anything else happen to her. Living would be pointless if something did. Watching her quietly from the bathroom's entrance made him feel more at ease, she had her space and he could be aware of her safety.

Cuddy brushed her teeth while staring at the antique basket on the sink's countertop. Expensive makeup was overflowing the weaved contraption. She wondered how much of her disgrace she could hide with the cosmetics. After rinsing her mouth of all minty paste, she reached for the basket. Her hand was softly pulled away, however.

"You don't need any of that." He spoke as quietly as he could. This was the first time he'd tell her she couldn't do or have something. He hated himself for denying her; regardless if it was the greater good or not.

"House-"

"You're perfect." He cut off her argument with the compliment. She had to know how he felt. She had to know the truth. Leading her back into the bedroom, House recognized the next step of her recovery that they were about to take. Its importance was undeniable. Even Cuddy had become rather depressed at the thought of the Police Station. She was just minutes away from confirming that her nightmare was, indeed, a reality.

Cuddy covered her fitted, navy t-shirt with a sweater of the same color. She had developed a sudden chill since leaving the breakfast table. Her hand immediately slipped back into House's after dressing. She felt an odd calmness whenever he engulfed her small hand with his. It was like she belonged to him. The psychology of it was most likely warped, but she couldn't have cared less. She adored it.

The mad their way through Cuddy's house to see Wilson had already tidied up the place. He stood at the front door with his car keys in one hand and House's leather jacket in the other.

"You guys ready?" He asked the couple before him. Wilson watched as House and Cuddy exchanged an affectionate glance. It was like they we're speaking telepathically. His admiring gaze turned into annoyed frown when he saw a cocky smirk make its way onto House's face before turning to look at his friend.

"Aren't we always?"

The man did have a point.


	10. ten

**This chapter is dedicated to** **looooooosingmaiimind! Without her, it probably would've taken me at least another three weeks to finish. Thanks, girl! XOXO  
**

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The ride to the Police Station was an eerie one. House and Wilson conversed quietly in the front seat while Cuddy remained completely silent in the back. It became apparent to both male doctors that their boss was, literally, one incident away from a breakdown. She sat behind the House occupied, passenger seat, and held onto his elbow. Never once did she break the contact, nor lift her head from its resting place on the back of House's headrest.

The sight was frightening. It was scary for them to see the woman in their lives in so much pain. She'd always been the one to care for them. Never was she the weak leak in their triangular assembly. Both House and Wilson became actors as they drove to her unavoidable fate. They were pretending to evade the inevitable, and take their audience's mind off of the real matter at hand. Judging by Cuddy's inexistent reaction, they were failing.

Even with Wilson's faithfulness to the city's speed limits, they arrived at their destination in just under twenty minutes. It was the only amount of time since the assault that seemed to fly by. Everything up until that car ride had seemed like eternity. Now, it appeared as though the clocks had sped ahead, and forced their boss to enter purgatory.

House, despite his injury, was the first to exit the car. The Oncologist took a brief moment to collect his thoughts and take a deep breath before doing the same. This was it. This could make or break her. This was the reason why he and House had decided to put all of their differences aside, and join together, once again. She needed them, now, more than ever. He gulped at the sight of House being a gentleman and opening the car door for her. It was odd for him to be acting like this. To think all these months he'd been wishing to see a change in his best friend. Now all he wanted was for things to go back to the way they were. He wanted Amber to be alive. He wanted House to be obnoxious. And he wanted his boss to smile. But like the most accurate quote of all time, you can't always get what you want.

It pained Cuddy to have to exit the car. Both mentally and physically, her body protested to moving towards the hell that awaited her. She flew into House's arms the moment her door was opened. He stumbled to find his uneven footing at her sudden burst of energy, but she didn't care. He was all that was holding her together. The Dean of Medicine wished for nothing more than to curl up into his lap and never leave. With the feeling of his arms returning her affection, she realized just what she'd been depriving herself for nearly twenty years. The security he offered her was incomparable to anything she had ever felt. It was like all of her fears vanished as soon as he captured her in his presence.

Like two guard dogs, the men walked on either side of Cuddy. The cripple limped with his cane supporting his right side, while his left was being deprived of circulation with the way his boss was squeezing it so tightly. The other doctor walked hesitantly as the woman's left flank. Not ever wanting to startle her, he watched the couple out of the corner of his eye. The three of them entered the station's main entrance, together. Not one was more superior than the other as they each, equally, supported their cause; all for one and one for all. This was what was left of them.

It was slightly frightening for House and Wilson to see how the Police Station mirrored the atmosphere of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. People were everywhere. Phones were ringing just about every other second. Organized chaos was the only phrase either of them could think of to describe it. If Cuddy couldn't handle this, she wouldn't be able to handle the hospital, her hospital.

Their fears were very much justified. Their boss was having a more difficult time adjusting to this new environment more than just about anything in her life. All of sudden her vision had gone to black and white while her hearing became mute. Everything was too much for her. Her breathing quickened as her body tensed up. She needed an escape, and she needed it now.

Despite all of House's brilliant talents in the arts of deduction, it did not take a medical genius to realize just what the Endocrinologist was experiencing. He felt her panic in the trembling of her hand, and went to cure her, immediately. He had vowed to never let her suffer again, and, for once, he was going to stay true to his promise. With a knowing look to his friend, House escorted Cuddy to corner of the reception area, just right of the glass doors they'd enter from. He pulled her back against his chest and trapped her body to his by grasping her right shoulder with his cane-less hand, letting his forearm press up against her clavicle. His face rested against the side of her face, just behind her ear. She was protected, and she was safe.

"I've got you. You're alright." The whispered words went unnoticed by everyone but her. The individuals around them were too busy with their own problems to note the scared woman covered in bruises. It was almost comforting. Being alone with her savior was the only illusion strong enough to carry her through all of this. She leaned back into the wall of protection that was his torso as a quick kiss was placed on the soft skin just behind her ear. The reminder being that he would destroy anything brave enough to approach her, yet it was out of nothing but love. He was only dangerous to others, never to her.

The two of them became lost in their own little world as their friend made his way to the main desk, protected behind bullet proof glass. It amazed him how perfectly they fit together. He swore his friend had just avoided a disaster using his somewhat frightening amount of knowledge of their boss's body language. In less than a minute, the manipulative bastard had used genuine devotion to alleviate Cuddy's anxiety, and bring forth a level of stability for her. House was to take care of her, and he was to take care of everything else.

Watching Wilson, House probably would've chuckled had he not been so preoccupied with keeping Cuddy calm. The Oncologist was using all of his charming wiles to get Cuddy somewhere less intimidating. It was amazing how women reacted to him. Had House been any less content with his own masculinity, he would've been jealous of Wilson's ability. Even from across the room, he could see the policewoman's ice cold persona melt at whatever his friend was saying to her. The officer looked towards House and Cuddy, and offered him a merciful nod. It was obvious that Cuddy looked as fragile as she truly was. He could feel her shivering in his arms.

It wasn't two minutes later until Wilson was walking in their direction with, what appeared to be, a high rank Police Officer by his side. The man wore a simple suit with a gold badge attached at his hip, along with a gun. His powerful stride indicated his authority, but his face was nothing but gentle. It pleased the Diagnostician to see that they had not sent over a swollen headed rookie. Cuddy would more likely open up to the Santa Claus looking of a man approaching them, than some buffed up kid who mirrored her attacker's appearance. Though by the way she reached up to tightly grip his wrist, it was safe to say she wasn't exactly thrilled about this new man either. He squeezed her small body, slightly. Everything was going to be okay; eventually.

"Hello there. I'm Officer Walsh." The man did not extend his hand towards House. He did not acknowledge Wilson beside him. He was entirely focused on Cuddy. It wasn't in any way meant to scare her. He wanted to make sure she knew where he stood. He was as much on her side as House and Wilson were. Both doctors approved of the veteran officer's tactic.

"Hi." Cuddy was frightened, to say the least. This was too much for her. She needed to get back home. She wanted nothing but to return to the warmth of her own bed. Once again, it was House's soothing voice that eased her nerves.

"It's okay. I'm right here with you."

Wilson watched his friends' interaction closely. It was fascinating the way House handled Cuddy. It was like all of their chemistry and sexual tension had been converted over to care and compassion. The undeniable connection was still there, but without their cold fronts and harsh banter. Love had risen from this tragedy's ashes.

The group of four stood in the station's main entrance for only a few minutes time. Officer Walsh took extra care in explaining the statement process to Cuddy, and reassured her that it would not take too long. He gave her confidence in himself by describing his head position in the department of the Special Victims Unit. He and another officer would follow her through the case, and be taking care of all legal requirements. The disabled one of the foursome seemed pleased when the officer's obvious disgust for her attack became apparent when speaking of the matter. When the man finished informing Cuddy on everything she needed to know, he led them down a hallway and into an interrogation room.

"Okay, I know this is not exactly the most comforting room you've ever seen, but please pardon the appearance. This is in no way an interrogation. With things being so nutty around here today, I figured you'd rather talk in here."

"Yes, thank you." Her voice held more force now that they were away from the hectic atmosphere.

"You're very welcome. Now, I'm going to go grab my partner to formally take done the account. Normally, we wish to have the victim alone," he paused to look down where Cuddy's hand was grasping House's. "But because Dr. House was technically there directly after the assault, he is welcome to remain in the room, if you'd prefer."

The Dean of Medicine began nodding her head, frantically. "Yes, please. I need him with me."

Officer Walsh held his hands up in a motion that asked her to settle down. "That is perfectly fine, Dr. Cuddy. Whatever makes this easier for you'd fine with us." He bowed his head submissively to her calming form as he walked towards the door. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be right back."

House and Wilson exchanged content grins once the officer had exited the room; so far, so good.

"Alright well, I guess that my cue to get out of here. I'm gonna go wait in the car." Wilson seemed rather happy that he would get to skip over this part of the process. Like House the night before, he did not wish to hear the story in which Lisa Cuddy was destroyed.

The Oncologist was beyond surprised to see his boss step away from House. She looked almost nervously, excited as her hand slipped itself from House's and her body turned to face him. With her lower lip trapped between her teeth, Cuddy threw her arms around Wilson's neck and hugged him with all her might. An enormous smile spread across Wilson's face as he returned the affection. It was nice to have her back.

House watched the embrace fondly. He was happy that she'd finally warmed up to Wilson. It was a sure sign of her healing. Cuddy would get better. The only issue, now, was time. Her new comfort with Wilson was wonderful. He didn't think his friend could take her distant personality much longer. Wilson thrived on neediness. The fact that Cuddy was in the most vulnerable state possible, and not wanting him, must have been deadly to the Oncologist.

Wilson released Cuddy from their tight hug at the sight of House's longing eyes, watching them. The trust between them was understood. The drug addicted loner trusted his best friend more than anyone else in the world; with only one exception. That didn't mean he couldn't feel jealous, however. The two doctors in front of him had been dancing around each other for as long as he'd known them. It was to no surprise that House wanted her as close as possible, regardless of the circumstances. He welcomed the greediness in House's stare. After all of the turmoil that had occurred between himself and his friend, it was nice to see him acting so humanly.

"Thank you so much, Wilson." The smile on Cuddy's face was beaming. Her expression was no longer weary when looking at her employee. She felt better. She felt proud. She'd made it this far without a breakdown. Now all she had to do was tell the Police what happened, and then she could go home, with her guardian angel by her side.

"Anything for you, boss." He joked happily as she retreated back to House's side. His grin turned into a chuckle as his friend extended his hand to pinch the back of Cuddy's sweater with his thumb and index finger, pulling her to him. The couple was utterly adorable. They'd gone from sexually frustrated adults to cuddly teenagers.

His laughter didn't faze House, however. He was quite content with the way his arm had wrapped itself around Cuddy's waist. Things had changed since yesterday. As far as his feelings towards the woman he held, he didn't care who witnessed his affection. The world could be watching him, and he wouldn't have given it two thoughts. To him, she wasn't his boss anymore. Well, she was that, but she was also so much more. She was his everything. That was something he wouldn't ever hide.

Once his friend had left them to escape the horrors of what he would have to listen to, again, House hooked his cane onto a metal chair and began to, tenderly, massage Cuddy's shoulders. He heard her giggle at his mock warm up, and turned in his arms to childishly hug his midsection. She buried her face beneath his leather jacket, and warmed his skin with her breath. He could already feel himself getting used to the feeling.

"Listen, Cuddy." She looked up at him with concentrated eyes. "I know this is gonna sound crazy, but you need to tell the truth about everything to the police…" he paused, thinking of how she was going to react, "expect us."

Her brown frowned in complete confusion. "What do you mean _about us_?"

"I mean if they ask you why you decided to call me, you need to tell them that we've been seeing each other. Otherwise, they'll think I'm taking advantage of you." It was killing him to see the hurt in her eyes.

"But you're not taking advantage of me." She reached up to cup his face with her hands. Doubt filled his blue eyes as she lowered his face to hers. He had never looked so sad. "House, I know you'd never use this against me, and I'm not using this to get to you. I have nothing to hide. I love you just as much today as I did yesterday. No one can take that away from me."

His eyes glistened with emotion. She loved him. The three most powerful words anyone could say to someone were just spoken directly towards him. How long had it been since someone had said that to him? It seemed unimportant. Now that she'd declared her love for him, everyone else was disregarded. It was as though the words only sounded right when coming from her lips.

"Cuddy, I--"

"Don't say it now." She had pressed her thumb over his mouth to silence him. "I don't want to remember this place every time I think of the first time you said it to me."

House smiled. Now, here was his Cuddy. Here was the ridiculously organized and completely feminine woman who had managed to steal his heart sometime over the past twenty years. He wasn't exactly sure when it had been taken, but he definitely did not want it back. Last night had only been the realization that it was missing.

He would tell her though. The second they left this four walled room he was going to scream it at the top of his lungs. After all she'd been through. After all he'd put her through. She deserved to know how he felt. "Okay."

The two giggled foolishly, forehead to forehead. It was simply too easy for them to get lost in their own little world. Neither of the noticed Officer Walsh entered the room with a female detective by his side. The clearing of his throat, however, did manage to startle Cuddy. The Diagnostician felt her jump before spinning in his embrace to see the two officers standing there with a couple of manila folders and a tape recorder; the both of them shyly offering her a grin.

"Are you ready, Dr. Cuddy?"

The Dean of Medicine nodded her agreement while eyeing the group's new member. She seemed pleased by the other woman's presence. With time, she was positive that her outlook on men would not remain so timid, her job wouldn't allow it. Until then, a fellow woman was a welcomed guest into this disaster.

Each of them took an uncomfortable seat at the metal table, the officers on one side and doctors across from them. Cuddy scooted her chair closer to House, allowing him to rest his elbow one the back of it. Her mood had lifted since finally revealing her feelings to him. She didn't want to lose control over the situation. His wall of security surrounded her as the questioning began. Never once did he shift or move even in the slightest bit. He was her rock, faithfully beside her through it all.

Detective Nolin, the woman, did all of the talking. She asked Cuddy the questions while Officer Walsh remained quiet as he scribbled down a few notes and operated the tape recorder. The two were unbelievably professional and kind while receiving Cuddy's statement. Patience was required as several times the rape victim was forced to stop by the lump slowly developing within her throat. House encouraged her not to leave out a single detail as she described the awkward examination she conducted on her attacker, the day before in the Clinic.

As the minutes passed, however, it seemed as though House was the one having the most trouble reliving the tale of what happened to Cuddy. Both law enforcers watched as the cripple's hand clenched into an iron fist onto the table. He had an almost delirious, endless stare in his eyes as the woman sitting beside him kept her head down while telling them exactly how their prisoner physically molested her. Her, what they believe to be her husband for all intensive purposes, was nearly foaming at the mouth as she described the final moments she shared with Louis Cypher. It was saddening to the both of them to see such aspiring physicians so defenseless. Much like the two doctors before them, the officers sometimes didn't understand their choice of profession.

As the remembrance of a horror film came to an end, House found himself slowly slipping out of his trance and back into the real world. As if Cuddy had sensed his tension ease, she turned to look at him. Her grey eyes were solemn and almost ghostly, but there were no tears. She had finally come to terms of what had happened to her. She accepted that the story she just told wasn't a story at all. This was her life. This is what happened, and this is what was happening now. House watched the corners of her mouth turn up into a tiny smile. It was nice to see that after creating the stress lines beside her eyes, he could still make her smile.

Once the duo heard Officer Walsh speak into the recorder and indicate that the question was done, deep breaths were taken by the both of them.

"You did great," was the only the thing House had to say.

"Yes, Dr. Cuddy, you did absolutely amazing." Detective Nolin expressed her opinion with pride radiating off her professional demeanor. "Thank you so much for agreeing to do this. With the DNA evidence, your statement, and you identifying both the panties and his picture, he doesn't have a shot in hell in beating this." It was the officers turn to smile now. Apparently, their usual cases did not go as smoothly as Cuddy's. It was rather depressing.

"Thank you," was Cuddy's simply reply. She wanted out of there, now. With her head tilted towards House, she mumbled her request. "Can we leave?" Her words were whispered inches away from House's neck as he and the officers were having a silent, appreciative conversation.

"Of course, anything you want." He helped her to stand and thanked the officers one more time before escorting her out of the room. They were walking hand in hand once again down the same hallways Officer Walsh had led them down before. It was completely different, however. The weight of the world no longer seemed to be resting upon their shoulders. There was no inevitable fate ahead them. Nothing but opportunity was before them.

"I can't wait to get home."

He chuckled and pulled her to his chest, "I'm so proud of you, Cuddy." House placed several, short kisses to the side of her stitched eyebrow. Enjoying the feeling of having her walking against his uneven gate, he indulged himself with the school girl like giggles that were wracking her body. Her care free attitude was wonderful. She was getting better. She was –

All of his thoughts and her laughter came to an abrupt halt at the sound of an angry prisoner yelling at a policeman.

"Get your fucking hands off me!" It was a powerful shout; one of a man who was used to having complete control. Cuddy stiffened at House's side immediately. He knew right there and then whose voice was coming from just down the hall.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." An unaffected Police Officer was ushering him through the station.

Their voices sounded like they were coming forward. House battled with the need to get Cuddy away from the un-caged animal and his own curiosity. He had a dominant want in his heart to meet the man brave enough to put his hands on Lisa Cuddy. He felt her pulling at the front of his shirt. She was trying to leave. She was trying to escape the awful situation that was about to occur. But House wouldn't allow it. His self nature was finally taking over. He stood his ground like a strategic soldier.

The heavy footsteps became all either of them heard as they advanced towards them. Finally, Louis Cypher appeared at the corridor's end. His pitch black eyes bore into the dark curls at the back of Cuddy's head. She had buried her face into House's right shoulder. She hadn't ever wanted to see face the man staring at her, again. A sadistic smile spread across the beast's mouth as he witnessed her response. However, when a powerful hand, also holding cane, came up to protectively hold her, he was forced him to lift his eyes. It was then that two alpha males' deadly stares met.


	11. eleven

**To all of my readers,**

**I cannot apologize enough for abandoning this community for nearly half a year. For those who have read my profile, you know that I am a senior in high school. Since early spring I have been struggling with the process of applying to colleges. This has stressed me like nothing ever before and has taken my mind hostage. I had terrible writer's block when writing my application essays, never mind with fanfiction. However, the process has officially come to an end, and all that is left for me to do is sit back and wait for an acceptance letter. Again, I am so sorry for leaving you all hanging.**

**Many of you have sent me encouraging private messages and emails. I thank you all so much for the amazing support and from now on will reply and interact like I once did. I appreciate everyone that reads my stories.**

**That being said, sweetpants is back! Expect updates and new stories to be added on a regular basis. Also, I would like to thank my fabulous beta Wonderlandbaby. She has stuck by me through these hectic months and has helped my writing like no other.**

**I am looking to find some fresh minds to proof read my material, however. I am confident in the way Wonderlandbaby and I work together but I think it is important to receive different opinions from a mixture of writers. I know quite a few of you have offered to give me a hand before so I would like to take up a couple of offers. Please, let me know if you're interested.**

**Sincerely,**

**Gabriela (sweetpants)**

* * *

Pitch black met electric blue in a fight for dominance. Every muscle fiber in both of the men's bodies contracted into an almost unbearable strain. Each of them stood perfectly erect with their feet planted to the floor in wide stances, preparing for battle. The criminal stood with his handcuffed hands clenched in front of his stomach and head, arrogantly, tilted back.

House could barely hear a thing. His ears only recognized the sounds of Cypher's daunting footsteps and Cuddy's accelerated breathing. She was practically panting with fear. She was desperately trying to get him to move, to retreat. He refused. House, as always, stood his ground. Pushing Cuddy behind him, he discreetly hooked his cane onto a closed door beside them.

His most vicious, drugged, and emotionless glare came nowhere close to the way he was watching his boss's attacker. He all but snapped his teeth at the man approaching them. The doctor's body stood perfectly rigid with even the hair on the back of his neck standing at attention. Everything he felt was natural. The thing most precious to him needed protection. He would stop at nothing to grant her that peaceful security.

As rapist and Diagnostician became transfixed with each other, Cuddy trembled silently with her back against the wall. Her fright was of Cypher, however, she wasn't comfortable with House's aggressive demeanor either. He wouldn't harm her. Of this, she was certain. But she had been on the other side of that ice cold glare. It was beyond disturbing to think about. The devil didn't seem the least bit affected. He simply continued to stare into House's dead eyes, only looking away for a moment to smile at her. The Dean of Medicine's reaction was to direct her vision onto the floor submissively. The memories behind that sickening smirk would forever haunt her. Another thirty five feet and he'd be as close as he'd been the night before.

"Good morning, beautiful."

House, literally, growled at the criminal's audacity. The greeting was shouted. There was still quite a bit of space between the opposing parties; apparently, not enough.

"I see you still in the afterglow. It suits you-"

"Shut the fuck up." The officer walking cautiously behind the prisoner had just about heard enough from Cypher. It didn't stop him, however. He continued to eye Cuddy up and down.

House felt the steady trembling behind him. She was panicking. Her arms wrapped around her stomach protectively as her face grimaced in emotional pain. Screwing her eyes shut, the Endocrinologist attempted to calm her rapidly beating heart. Her demon completely disregarded the officer's warning, and continued to verbally harass House.

"You must be her man, huh?" His eyes shifted to his victim, "Why are you bothering with this pansy? He obviously doesn't fulfill your needs."

House took a small, limp less step towards the on-coming criminal. It was enough for Cypher to redirect his remarks to House. He was just a few feet away now.

"You should loosen her up a bit, man. It wouldn't have hurt as much had she not been so deliciously tight." He licked his lips for theatric effect.

The doctor's jaw locked into place. His nostrils began to flare as he took forced, deep breaths. It was all he could do to prevent himself from executing the man before him. It wouldn't be murder; simple retaliation. The warped logistics within his mind saw it as nothing more than correcting a wrong. He didn't deserve to live. He shouldn't have the right to reminisce torturing Cuddy so happily. Starting from his damaged leg, pain crept up, throughout his body. It was excruciating to think of what she had gone through. The agony stronger than detox could ever be.

It was happening, again. The pain destroyed every one of his emotions. Any second now, he would combust and hurt the closest thing to him. Though this time, a desperate Dean of Medicine would not be his victim. This time, his victim wouldn't be a victim at all. The person before him was the devil's advocate. He wasn't sitting meekly beneath a hospital shower with a critically sick child in his arms.

Time slowed as the criminal further advanced down the hallway. All humorous insanity had left his face as he stared back at House. It was as though Cuddy didn't even exist. Not once did he look in her direction. The two men were entirely focused on each other. There wasn't a thing she could do about it either. Even if the woman wasn't completely paralyzed with psychological damage, she'd been helpless.

And then it happened. For the second time in two days, Louis Cypher drew first blood. When he finally reached we're the civilians were standing, he kicked one of his legs backward, effectively striking the male officer's groin. In that same instance, he swung his cuffed hands at the guard's face, splitting the policeman's skin and sending him toppling to the floor.

His enemy's action of violence was all House needed to explode. He lunged towards Cypher as Cuddy shrieked out his name in warning. He tackled him to the ground, landing perfectly on top his foe. The Vicodin addict began throwing punches aimlessly at the handcuffed and helpless man. It was a rather different scenario for the rapist.

House was possessed. He couldn't stop himself from continuing to pound his fists at Cypher. Flashes of Cuddy's injured body circulated throughout his head. All he saw was torn porcelain skin, and lifeless grey eyes. Each plea of help and frightened look she gave him from the night before came rushing from the back of his mind, to his hands, and back towards his heart to further fuel the suffering he was creating.

He kept up his assault well after the prisoner lost consciousness. It was impossible for him to stop. Even his angel couldn't put an end to the violent rage. She kept a safe distance from him, but pleaded shamelessly to stop. The consequence of House's attack on her enemy would be endless.

"House, stop! Please, you're gonna kill him!" It was fruitless.

"Dr. House! Stop!" A booming voice shook the hallway. Before Cuddy could even turn her head to whom created such a powerful demand, Office Walsh was carelessly lifter off of Cypher. In a matter of seconds, Officer Nolin was beside Cypher checking his vitals and audibly praying while several other officers' swarmed around their fellow, fallen patrolman.

Cuddy began to hyper ventilate as the number of people around her, tripled. She had no one to run to. Her savior remained preoccupied with the elder officer. He was screaming at the doctor to calm down. It seemed liked forever until House's drug like trance broke and his eyes scanned the area. His frightened orbs didn't seem at ease until they met the scared, grey eyes of his boss.

Finally, he began to breath and attempted to gently break away from Officer Walsh's hold. The older man had House pinned up against the wall with his bad leg twisted awkwardly; assuring that the doctor would not be moving without his consent.

At the same time, the guard in which Cypher had knocked down began to gain consciousness as Officer Nolin called for the paramedics. She shouted that the rapist had a pulse but it fell on deaf ears. The doctors were too busy with diagnosing each other's locked gazes. The Dean of Medicine silently begged for her companion to come closer, but not for a second was House freed from the human barricade.

Commotion buzzed around the couple, but neither noticed. Just his nurturing stare was enough to calm Cuddy's rapid breathing. He didn't even need to touch her in order for her to feel the warmth he offered. The power held within his baby blues was incomparable to anything else in the world. She couldn't deny that unique shade of blue if her life depended on it, and wouldn't trust her life with any other color. Her discomfort with their distance border lined physical pain. She needed to be with him.

It took timeless minutes for the turmoil to end. Officer Walsh didn't slowly release his hold on House until both the guard and Cypher were removed from the hallway and receiving medical attention. The other men in blue dispersed, as well as Officer Nolin. House, Cuddy, and Officer Walsh were the only ones remaining. Silence filled the thick atmosphere as the policeman took a small step away from the male doctor. It was as though Officer Walsh felt he was interrupted something. The longing look House sent towards Cuddy was one meant for privacy.

The Diagnostician lowered his defensive shoulders and closed his panting mouth. The flaring of his nostrils continued as the adrenaline slowly left his overworked body. Crystal blue eyes filled with worry as they pleased to a grey storm of admiration. His internal panic was unnecessary. There had never been so much love in Cuddy's eyes. Her gaze begged him to disregard his fearful shock and move towards her. She was not afraid of him. His violent actions had not shaken her. She understood that he was not harmful; to her, at least. The way he stood so proudly gave her the vision of a god, not a villain.

House looked back at the officer for permission before advancing in the direction of Cuddy. She met him nearly halfway and went straight into his arms, burying her face into his chest. He squeezed his watering eyes shut and grabbed hold of her dark curls. He wished to give her more time to adjust, but it wasn't the time or the place. He gently broke away from her embrace by gripping her shoulders and stepping backwards, allowing his hands to run down the length of her arms, and finally taking hold of her hands. Cuddy nodded her understanding and allowed him to redirect his attention to Officer Walsh. However, she did not release one of his hands from her own.

The policeman looked from House, to Cuddy, to the floor, to the ceiling, and then to the wall. He was searching for the proper way to address the situation. All of the doctors' happiness and second chances rested upon the officer's shoulders.

"So, Dr. House," he made eye contact with the other man. "Cypher attached Officer Albrecht, and turned to charge towards Dr. Cuddy, forcing you to defend both her and your safety.

House lifted his eyebrows in surprise. There was an absolute sincere look on Officer Walsh's face and he could feel Cuddy looking up at him with her mouth slightly open. For the first time ever, was luck going in his favor? He stuttered to find the right words; politely clearing his throat to participate in the lie all three were willing to create.

"Yes, sir. That's what happened." He watched the policeman's stern exterior soften into a sympathetic smile.

"Well, then. I guess that'll be a good enough statement regarding the matter. I'll take care of the rest." With that, the man in uniform stepped aside to allow them to continue down the hallway and finally exit the building.

She slipped her hand into her employee's as they walked in silence without even bothering to look at each other. He was ashamed of what he allowed to occur, and she was upset by the fact she adored the action. Fear and love had wracked both of the objective individuals' emotions too quickly. Neither knew how to manage their new found attachment. Their mutual feelings had always been there, but openly expressing their bond was something new. Twenty years of close separation and this awful occurrence had their secret affections bursting from within them. Embarrassment flushed both of their faces as they entered Wilson's car.

"What happened?!" The Oncologist's eyes were wide with bewilderment at the sight of House's bloody hand.

House didn't respond as he pressed a napkin from the glove compartment to his red knuckles. Anger bubbled up at the memory of Louis Cypher. The unconscious state he'd pounded him into hadn't healed any of his distress over the matter. He didn't think anything ever would.

"Just drive to Cuddy's. I'll tell you everything there." It was a short, negotiable statement.

It was also enough. Wilson granted the request for time and quickly made the war towards New Jersey's suburb; all the while analyzing his two best friends' state of mind. Besides him, the Diagnostician seemed on edge. Quick glances in the rear view mirror, however, showed his boss to be peacefully gazing out the window with a content look in her eyes. It didn't make sense, but he requested their privacy until the car ride had concluded.

Once they returned to Cuddy's house, he bombarded House with questions when their female companion used the bathroom. He nearly shouldn't have asked.

"You did WHAT?!"

"Shh." The immature, older doctor made a dramatic show of shushing Wilson's loud mouth. It was pointless to disturb his woman with a replay of what occurred at the station. It was over and she was home, there was no reason to mention the incident.

"House!" Wilson was mock whispering now. "Do you have any idea how bad this is going to look in court? Cuddy's got enough to worry about!"

"Oh would you relax, nothing happened. The cop you saw broke it up, and isn't gonna say anything. The boys in blue aren't exactly known to like rapists, ya know." The statement earned himself an eye roll.

"That's not the point. House, life goes on. No matter how many people you beat up or keep away from Cuddy, these things are going to happen. You can't react like an animal every time someone goes near her."

"You weren't there. He was --"

"--acting like a psychopath, which is exactly what he is! You protected her, I get it, but punching him in the face was unnecessary. He's in jail. His punishment, for now, is enough."

"NOTHING WILL EVER BE ENOUGH!" His boomed throughout the household. His temper snapped and had him continuing the rant in which his subconscious had been creating ever since first seeing the damage done to Cuddy's body. "Having him raped, tortured, and burned alive in prison wouldn't be enough. He could die and slip into the deepest circle of hell, and that still wouldn't be even a fraction of what he deserves."

Wilson remained quiet as his best friends' eyes swelled and reddened. Tears were filling the Diagnostician's eyes as his breathing quickened. A moment passed between them. Wilson had always been the one House allowed to see him vulnerable. Once again, he sought guidance from his right hand man. He whispered the only thing that ran through his mind while defending Cuddy's honor.

"He hurt her." Never had Gregory House sounded so sad.

"House," Cuddy called. Wilson watched as she entered the room as quietly as a mouse. His best friend screwed his eyes shut to lessen the wetness within them. However, the older man did not turn around. He didn't even acknowledge their boss. "House, I'm okay now. You don't have to be mad."

"I'm fine," The lie was muttered. Both of his friends watched him limp into the living room without saying another word. His silence was more disturbing to them than any awkward confrontation. Cuddy tried to go after him, but Wilson gently stopped her.

"Give him a minute, Cuddy. He's not used to this." Her face cringed in discomfort as she looked towards the empty hallway. She wanted to go to him so badly. Her heartbeat became erratic every time they were apart. But Cuddy remained where she stood. House, her House, her best friend, and the love of her life had sacrificed everything he stood for today, for her. He had saved her and nurtured her. He had cared for her in a way she had never been taken care of before. In every way, shape, and form, he had been there for her. Now, she would return a fraction of his devotion, and give him his needed distance. No matter how much it pained her, she would do right by him.

The Oncologist redirected his boss to the kitchen table to console her in a way only he could. He began conversations as serious as to what was going to happen once she returned to the hospital to as ridiculous as the upcoming season of American Idol. Wilson sat beside her like the loyal friend he was and began to cure her in a way House never could. He had her participating in a non-bantering conversation and laughing at his light hearted jokes. Her mind was slowly healing and normalcy was coaxing the true Cuddy out from hiding.

Down the hall, House sat on the couch with his elbows resting upon his knees and his head buried in his hands. Hot tears burned his palms as the stress that had been dominating his body since the night before was finally being released in liquid form.


	12. twelve

Wilson made the decision on how long to wait before allowing Cuddy to go comfort his friend. Though Cuddy knew House for a number of years far greater than himself, she was not exactly in the most capable of states. God forbid he were to become hostile or lash out in order to hide his pain, Wilson did not want his friend to accidently halt Cuddy's progress. House would never forgive himself.

Somewhere near the forty-five minute mark, the Oncologist relieved his boss from the kitchen table. Had he waited another minute she would've gotten up anyways. She had picked at her cuticles until a few bled and bounced her right knee up and down for a good portion of their conversation. To say she was anxious to return to House's side was an understatement. The woman practically went through the roof when he told her to go to him.

Cuddy took one last glance at the boyish smile on Wilson's face before half running to the living room. She was beyond in need of touching him, seeing him, anything. However, her movements came to a complete halt just inches before the doorway. He hadn't overwhelmed her the previous evening. She would now return the favor. Silently, Cuddy entered the room with her eyes on the floor. He would most likely want the extended time to put on his 'mask.' House never wished for someone to witness him vulnerable. When she did look up, she saw that the action had been pointless. He hadn't even acknowledged her entrance.

House had remained in the same position he had hunched himself into since first separating from her. His face was still hidden by his hands and his elbows were putting an uncomfortable amount of pressure onto his knees. He was aware of his boss just feet away from him, but he was not yet ready to face her. Tears were still clouding his eyes and weakness was the last thing he would ever offer her again. The days of her saving him were over.

Not being able to be apart from him for any longer, Cuddy disregarded his silence and continued to approach him. She took quiet, tentative steps. She didn't want to upset him. He meant everything to her. Now, she would tell him just that. She would make him understand just how highly she thought of him. She would convince him of his importance within her life.

When she was just a few inches from his sitting form, she reached out her hands and massaged his scalp. A small smile tugged at her lips when she witnessed his shoulders loosened and jaw unlock. Much like her, all he needed was time to adjust. A noise that sounded like half a grunt and half a whimper escaped him and it sent the smile from her face. Instead, she winced with pain at the sound. As a response, she applied more pressure to his temples and then moved her fingers in a rhythmic motion in an attempt to ease his mind.

Without warning, House's hands shot out to grab hold of her waist. A gasp of surprise left her lips as he pulled her to him and crushed his face into her stomach. He was drowning out the world by surrounding himself with her. Her touch and smell lessened the burning of his eyes and eased the lump in his throat. Everything was alright when with her. He felt her hands slip down the back of his head and begin to knead the muscles at the back of his neck.

Maybe it was alright for her to comfort him. Maybe their protectiveness of each other could be mutual. Just maybe he could continue to accept her loving care if he were to just, finally, return the compassion. He had done it the night before; maybe he could do it for the rest of his life. With the feel of her petite waist in his hands, he couldn't think of ever holding someone else. No more hookers. No more married ex girlfriends. Nothing could ever suffice in comparison to her.

House's hands made the decision for him. They traveled under her shirt to feel her skin and grab a firmer hold of her hips. She didn't react. It was as though they had become one. He squished his face into her abdomen and sighed deeply against her shirt. He couldn't think of a more heavenly place to be, and yet it saddened him. A few years back, he'd expected her of being pregnant. This would prove to be true, but the miscarriage she had was kept a secret from him. Wilson had been the one to tell him. However, during the time in which she was carrying a microscopic bundle of cells, he'd had a fantasy. It was exactly what was taking place currently. He had wished to touch her belly in the way he was now. He didn't understand it, but as the warmth spread from her to him, it did make sense. He had wanted to feel as passionate about something as she did. He wanted to feel. Now, he did.

Eventually, the contact wasn't enough for him and he brought her down to sit beside him. Hands still on her hips, House brought her close in a hug. She smiled against his shoulder as his eyes finally dried. Releasing their hold came soon after, the two became face to face again. His heart skipped a beat the moment he met her sapphire eyes. Their heads were just barely apart. Every single ounce of self restraint he had fought the urge to press his lips to her. The comfort and protection he offered her wasn't enough. He wanted her to feel his affection, to taste it. He wanted her to understand everything he felt for her, without him having to say it. She was what he lived for.

He closed his eyes to suppress the sinful act and winched with further restraint when he felt her cheek press up against the left side of his face. He was becoming disturbingly dependent on her constantly showing him displays of affection. When he tilted his head downwards to collide their foreheads, he released one of his hands from hers to gently caress the cheek that had just been turned a shade of pink by his scruff. One again, their eyes met; though this time, even closer than before. Blue and grey reunited as their star continued. The words that had been on the tip of his tongue for the last twenty years were finally spoken.

"I love you."

It was then that house witnessed the most beautiful smile he had ever seen in his life. Cuddy's face lit up like a wildfire as her endless orbs dove into the deepest of oceans. Suddenly, they were back in Michigan. She was nineteen and full of life and innocence. Her wounds were healed before his eyes. She was beaming.

Their timing has always been less than perfect. It was yet another unique characteristic to their lifelong saga. From misunderstanding their interaction in college to ignoring the signs of chemistry that had been overloading the hall of Princeton-Plainsboro for the better half of the last decade, they had just barely came in contact with the chance of unity so many times. This circumstance was proof of their relationship. They had been the only ones ignorant to this bond. Everyone within a hundred mile radius of the couple knew they were just that: a couple.

Wilson interrupted them. His face turned a bright red and his words stumbled when he entered the room. The Oncologist hadn't expected the pair to be so close. Yes, he'd seen their public display at the police station, but that was due to Cuddy's panic. Never in a thousand years had he thought of the possibility of House openly expressing his feelings for Cuddy in the privacy of her home. Seeing his two friends Eskimo kissing sent the dreadfully wrong idea into Wilson's brain. This was too soon.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't… I mean… I was just checking to see if - everything was okay."

House and Cuddy turned, wide-eyed at their friend. Smirks made their face onto both of their faces. Seeing Wilson frazzled was always amusing.

"Okay. Well… okay." The wonder boy shook the embarrassment from his face and quickly moved out of the doorway and back to the kitchen. He didn't even know where to begin to analyze the scene he had just witnessed.

Under normal circumstances, Wilson never walked in on his two closest friends. Though he knew first hand of their stubbornness to get together, he'd always hoped they would reach the conclusion that they did, in fact, need each other. He had thought maybe if they were ever alone long enough, they'd either kill one another of start ripping off clothing. Either way, he'd never wanted to be present for the event.

After Cuddy went to comfort the older doctor, he had remained in the kitchen thinking for an unknown amount of time. Matters of how the hospital would react to Cuddy's 'incident' played out in his head. She was the teaching hospital's life source; he hoped the board did the right thing by her. Knowing how ruthless they could be and taking into account the feathers Cuddy ruffled when allowing him to take extended time off and allowing House to do next to nothing during his absence, Wilson hoped they'd show remorse. He knew that these thoughts were possibly the futurist things from his boss' mind right now, but Wilson knew better. The reality of Lisa Cuddy's life would hit her very soon. She would come around to her old self. In the meantime, he would try to make her transition to the real world less stressful.

It was this he was pondering when he realized the odd silence within the home. Worried that something was wrong with one or both or his colleagues, Wilson had gone to the living room to check their status. To say the sight had shocked him was an understatement.

What was House thinking?! There was no way the drug addict would remain beside Cuddy when she was no longer in need of round the clock care. He understood his friend's sudden want to protect Cuddy. He himself was a sucker for damsels in distress. This fairytale was what led to all three of his divorces. But once their boss was physically healed and House with his tarnished armor wasn't needed, the Diagnostician would retreat back to his old ways. He would use and abuse drugs, hookers, and liquor until the ache of his empty life was filled and he would then hit rock bottom. Wilson would be the one to piece together the aftermath of this disaster. However, House would not just destroy himself. Judging by the helpless eyes of his female friend, there wouldn't be much left of Lisa Cuddy to save.

A broken heart would be the death of her.

He had to talk to House. He had to explain to him the responsibility he was taking on by his recent actions. Cuddy was now dependent on him. This fact would stay true for quite awhile and if what he saw in the living room was what he thought it was his boss was unconditionally attached to House. He could see it in her eyes and in the way she latched onto the gruff man. This was bad. House was in no way a figure of solidity. The man could barely take care of himself never mind a recently raped woman. One of Wilson's main reasons for supporting the idea of a House-Cuddy relationship was because the Dean of Medicine could handle his best friend.

Their boss had been putting up with House since before he knew either of them. She had always been the man's one and only rock. She was there for House because no one else would or could. With the exception of himself (although even he had walked away), Cuddy was the only one whom took House's abuse time and time again without complaint. Out of love for her employee, the woman had devoted her life to him. Now, Wilson understood, was when House should return her affection. The problem was that he didn't completely trust House's intentions. The man's track record was not exactly superb.

His mind raced as he left the house through the kitchen's slider door. He needed some air and space to breath and pace.

Still in the living room, the non-couple had not moved from their position on the sofa. Wilson's interruption had been minor and ineffective to both of their moods. House had seen Wilson's shocked and concerned gaze but paid little attention to it. He knew himself. He knew the faults of his character and how unworthy he was to have Cuddy in his arms. But he was not going to change this. He was going to hold onto her for as long as he possibly could. He realized that she would eventually get stronger. Unlike the Oncologist, House was aware of the strength within the small body beside him. One day, she would no longer need him. He hoped she would still have him.

"Are you alright?" The words were purred into the side of his neck. He wouldn't be giving this up easily. It wasn't a sexual need for her closeness. He had just gone so long without human contact that the feel of her lovingly up against him was addictive. He wished for her to remain there forever.

"Yeah, I'm good."

"I don't believe you." Her sentence was delivered in a mocking sing song voice and he couldn't recall a more adorable sound. He smirked.

His hands took hers as he painfully lifted himself from the couch. She followed him immediately.

It had always been the proximity in which they spoke that fueled the rumors of their relationship. Even when they were screaming at each other, they were never more than a foot apart. It was during these times that House had come up with an infinite number of ideas: to reach out and rest a hand on her hip, to tuck the curl that always seemed to get loose behind her ear, to chastely kiss her cheek and whisper that everything would be alright and to trust him. These were ideas that he never tested. He never had the nerve to experiment to see if what he wanted was what she wanted too. He hadn't known that his boss wouldn't have minded. She would have welcomed the interruption to their arguments and appreciated any of his fantasized gestures.

Dreams came true. He reached out for her hands and brought them up to his chest. They both watched their fingers entwine and silently marveled over the sight. His were large and rough while hers were small and soft, yet they looked perfect together. The sight was wonderful. It was everything they'd ever wanted to see.

"I'm gonna have to go to the hospital tomorrow." He looked up as he spoke regretfully. "I need to talk to Foreman about taking over for awhile."

She arched her eyebrow and he smirked.

"It's temporary. Until… you're ready."

Her grip tightened as her eyes became watery. A grin spread across her lips and she nodded. She was grateful.

"I'll come with you." Ignoring his confused look, she continued. "I need to handle some things too, and I'm gonna have to talk to the board eventually so it might as well be tomorrow." He tried to interrupt her but she wouldn't allow it. "It'll be fast. I don't plan on spending the day there. I can't." Her eyes fell to their still joined hands. "I'm not…"

A lump in her throat ended her statement prematurely. She didn't feel the need to finish and he didn't pressure her to. He already knew what she meant. It would take some time before things went back to normal; if they ever did. Either way, he didn't care. He'd help her tomorrow and all the days following.

Her eyes rose to his when he brought her left hand up to his mouth. Pausing for just a moment, he watched for a reaction before closing his eyes and pressing his lips to her skin. Unintentionally, he kissed her ring finger.


	13. thirteen

The evening continued without much occurrence. House and Cuddy remained magnetic, but Wilson postponed the scolding of his best friend to a later date. The three co-workers simply enjoyed each other's company. There was no mention of rape, addiction, or Amber. The past and present were put aside for one night. The following day would prove to be challenging for the small, odd family.

At 7 a.m. PPTH's Head of Oncology called for an emergency board meeting to take place at noon on behalf of the Dean of Medicine. This was not an easy task. Rumors had spread throughout the hospital like a wildfire. The fact that House and Cuddy had two unexplained, synchronized absences was the talk of the nurses' station and the doctors' lounge. It was also the number on texting topic between benefactors and board members. Not one power hungry MD on the board was compassionate when Wilson spoke of the matter. They were all unwilling to listen when he attempted to explain that there had been an emergency. Each and every one of them was convinced that their boss had requested the meeting to announce her not so secret affair with the infamous Diagnostician. They were condescending and some even threatening.

They would eat their words before the day was through.

At the home of Lisa Cuddy, Dr. House tenderly awoke the administrator with a plate of food and watched lovingly as she ate in bed. There was no tension, but awkwardness remained. Both were silently wondering how the day would pan out and whether or not their companion could survive without the act of either retreat or attack. House thought she might flee. Cuddy thought he might fight. The consequence for each was public annihilation.

Preparing for battle was a slow process. Cuddy had made peace with her bathroom mirror, but still took extra time bathing. House, on the other hand, maintained his usual, speedy routine of shower, coffee, clothes, but spent an infinite amount of time on her back patio, staring into space. In the end, they met in the foyer an hour prior to noon and very few words were exchanged. Their preferred communication was to clasp hands. With that, they faced the world together and headed for the hospital.

Wilson was tedious in just about every aspect of life. Planning the meeting that would surely change PPTH forever would be handled no differently. He was careful in choosing the room in which the event would take place. Having its walls transparent was not an option, and making sure its location was towards the back of the building was a major priority. Neither Cuddy, House, nor himself wished for an audience, and he wanted the administrating sharks to be as far away from the hospital's entrance as possible when their bleeding leader arrived.

His off-again, on-again best friend called him at 11:30 a.m. to announce he and Cuddy's arrival. In response, Wilson paged all members of the board and firmly instructed them to be prompt. Then, he made his way to the main lobby and braced himself on its' balcony. He took the place with the best view to watch something he wouldn't forget for the rest of his life.

Outside, a black Mercedes Benz was parked in the handicapped spot the Head of Diagnostics usually dismounted his motorcycle in. The vehicle's tinted windows masked the two passengers' identities to the doctors and nurses outside on their lunch breaks. Still, the couple would have just a moment to collect their thoughts.

"You don't have to do this. You don't owe them anything."

The sincerity in House's eyes as he spoke was near divine. Cuddy's breath caught and her eyes misted.

"I know. I want to, House. I need to." She then leaned forward and nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. Her body was uncomfortable and tinged with pain as she awkwardly maneuvered herself towards the driver's side of the car. In just a moment, Cuddy was almost completely in House's lap with his arms wrapped securely around her. Her discomfort was well worth it. Bruised ribs be damned, she would endure much more for this contact with him. He was a healer and he was healing her. His touch was medicine. Wherever his hands pressed against her, the aching muscles underneath would be instantly soothed.

"Whenever you're ready," He mumbled the words into her hair, inhaling her shampoo. She had all the time in the world. The board _would _wait patiently. Whether they wanted to or not, his friend would make sure of it.

It took her a few minutes to regain her composure, and when she did, House saw nothing but determination in her eyes.

"I'm ready."

The Diagnostician matched her unwavering stare and smirked proudly. He let her out of his hold temporarily. They could return to their embrace once everything was over. Despite his knowledge of nothing lasting forever, he still planned for always. He would embrace her until she requested otherwise and even then, he would faithfully remain. She would have a place in his arms until his death.

The couple exited the car simultaneously and immediately an audience was formed. Everyone within eye sight paid them their full attention. At first, House stole the spot light. Seeing the cripple depart from his boss's vehicle was shocking enough and all eyes were on him. This was not for long. Cuddy's battered face was on display for the entire world to see, and once it was recognized, no one could look away. Gasped whispers filled the small crowd as they took into account the Dean of Medicine's state. The people could not divert their eyes from the doctors as they mindlessly walked by hand in hand pasted the gathering and through the hospital's main doors.

House's determination left him ignorant to everything and everyone except the sight of the elevators' doors and the feel of his boss's small hand within his own. Cuddy's experience was entirely different. She was aware of everything. Since falling victim to Louis Cypher, her senses had heightened. Even the silent, unthreatening gaze of Wilson caught her attention. A quick glance upward and she offered him a reassuring smirk. Readjusting her eyes to remain ahead, she attempted to hide behind a mask as powerful of a façade as her savior's. A metallic taste filled her mouth as she felt the atmosphere shift from shock to confusion to pity.

Wilson did not move from his spot even when his friends were out of sight beneath him. He waited to hear the ding of an elevator before making his own way to the board meeting. However, he did not leave so quick as to miss witnessing the reaction of the crowd down below. He saw many of their faces melt from what he was sure was the sight of Gregory House expressing concern for the love of his life.

The Oncologist couldn't have been more correct. House's masquerade didn't break until stepping onto the lift with Cuddy. Irritation swelled inside the drug addict as he scrutinized the gathering before him and pushed the top floor's button with unnecessary force. Despite the amount of eyes watching him, his expression turned to heart wrenching concern as he felt Cuddy's hand twitch as he created the violent action.

When the doors' shut, the man faced his woman and hooked his cane onto the railing in favor of holding both her hands. He leaned forward and ducked his head to speak in a whisper.

"Please don't be afraid of me. I'll never hurt you." _Physically. _House didn't voice his pessimism.

No fear met his stare. She smiled warmly and removed her hands from his to reach up and frame his face.

"I know. You just startled me, that's all." She glanced to her right and saw that they only had two more floors to go. Quickly, she rose onto the tips of her toes and kissed the side of his face.

House's eyes closed at the feel of her lips touching his skin. Not a thing in the world mattered at that moment. He went completely numb for an unknown amount of time. The sound of the elevator was what jolted him from his trance and he awoke to see Cuddy smiling up at him shyly. He hadn't felt her move but she was a good foot away from him and holding his cane. As the doors opened, he took his walking aid and winked at her playfully.

"News travels fast." They both turned to face their friend. "They're all texting the people from downstairs." Wilson stood like a soldier with his serious frown and arms crossed.

"Let them," was House's reply. With that, they made their way to the daunting double doors.

Wilson was the first to enter, followed by House, and then last but not least Cuddy. The room had been filled with quiet, speculating chatter. It died. As the trio made their appearance, every person in the room shut up. Their mouths did not close, however. At the sight of their boss, they couldn't help but stare. The Dean of Medicine's closest friends were used to her appearance. They could look at her and not flinch at the sight of her stitched eye and split lip. They were no longer astonished by the bite marks on her neck or the way her hands would sometimes begin to tremble for no apparent reason. This did not mean their stomachs did not turn when they saw what had been done to her, however. It simply meant that for her benefit, they hid their horrified emotions. Their pity would do nothing but embarrass her.

"Are you kidding? For the first time in years, she's wearing pants and _now _all your jaws drop." There was venom in House's voice. He sent glares to everyone but Cuddy and Wilson.

"Uhh," Grayson Albrighton, pompous benefactor and not so secret admirer of Dr. Cuddy attempted to speak. "Lisa-"

"Dr. Cuddy," House interrupted.

"House," Wilson attempted to interrupts his friend's rising temper. "Shut up."

Cuddy sighed and held up a hand to silence all of them. She looked nothing like the confident woman whom usually addressed the board. Her shoulders were slightly slouched as though holding the weight of the world and her eyes were as wide as a frightened deer. Her distinct, determined jaw was the only resemblance she had of her former self. It's rarity the common cause for its beauty, now a symbol of her strength. A deep breath and she was as ready as anyone could be.

"I would like to formally apologize for my recent, unscheduled absences, but as you all can see, I have a legitimate excuse." She paused for a moment, gathering the courage a lesser human being would contain. "Two nights ago, I was attacked while leaving the hospital. Since then, my attacker has been incarcerated and I have filed charges. I am physically fine and mentally stable. That being said, I am not so arrogant as to resume my duties as Dean of Medicine quite so soon."

"It's expected."

"Please don't rush yourself."

"We understand."

The entire board spoke at the same time. Each offered useless platitudes with phony sympathy. Their audacity forced Wilson's eyes to roll and House's blood to boil. Cuddy had a different reaction. Suddenly, the recently raped woman became very much aware of the fact that she was the center of attention. She gulped down her fear and looked to Wilson for help.

The Boy Wonder was happy to assist not only his boss, but his fellow department head as well. House was just a moment away from going on a killing spree. With a gentle hand pressed to Cuddy's back and a warning glare sent to his best friend, Wilson worked his magic.

"Why don't we allow Dr. Cuddy to finish?" It wasn't a question.

_Why don't you all fuck off? _The statement never left House's mind, yet Wilson was still able to hear it.

As the board quieted down, Cuddy found her strength.

"Thank you, Dr. Wilson." For the first time, she scanned the room and saw all their faces. Everything was different. Once upon a time their arrogant smirks and overly fancy suits would have amused her. She had always had a cynical humor when thinking of her board colleagues. This was no longer true. She did realize that it was her perception of the world and not the world itself that had been altered. However, that didn't stop the uneasiness that upset her stomach. She wondered if the feeling would ever go away.

"I would also like to inform the hospital that Dr. House will be taking a week's vacation starting immediately." Eyes widened from all directions. "He has not taken a non-injury related vacation since being employed at this hospital and I am sure you all would rather not deal with his," she paused to think, "working style during my absence."

The Diagnostician smirked arrogantly. Wilson rolled his eyes.

"That being said, Dr. Wilson will be taking over my duties until my return which will most likely be a week from now."

"A month," House chimed in.

"Two weeks," was Cuddy's final offer. Wilson smiled at their old ways.

"Dr. Cuddy," Albrighton interrupted. This man really was begging for a punch in the face. "I would like to speak for the board when I ask of you to please take as much time as you need." Other members around the table nodded their heads. "You have been this hospital's rock on more than one occasion; however, it will survive without you."

This statement received a snort from House. Albrighton glared at him as a result.

"Thank you, Mr. Albrighton, but I am sure that a couple of weeks will be all I need. Are there any questions that pertain to hospital business?" Silence fell over the room. "Alright, then I would like to remind everyone here that my personal life is my own and I would appreciate all speculation about me to cease when I exit this room. I will be checking my email frequently if anyone has anything they'd like to discuss with me." Surprisingly, her tone left no room for objection. She sounded like her old self, her true self. The unspoken statement was clear. If anyone was to suspect anything between her and House, they were to say nothing. She would deal with that upon her return.

The next few moments pasted by in a blur. Wilson thanked the board for their cooperation and promised to be in touch with them all before the conclusion of the work day. Hardly any of them listened. They were too focused on Cuddy. One should never underestimate the power of greed. Their leader was wounded and they had just decided to turn on her. House could see it in their eyes. It was a matter of time before there would a rebellion over the management of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. He saw a war of Vogler-type proportions in their future. It didn't matter. This time, the trio would fight them together. Cuddy would not have to stand alone.


End file.
